Remember
by katsalinas
Summary: REPOSTAn encounter with hostile aliens during a dilithium mining excavation causes B'Elanna loses her memories gets seperated from Voyager. Believing that she's dead, the crew struggle with their lost. Meanwhile in another planet, B'Elanna faces a struggl
1. Chapter 1

As you all know, this is a repost.

First of all, i'd like to thank Steph P--now known as LadyMaquis--for the wonderful beta she did for all the chapters of Remember. Steph, not only are you a great writer, but you're an excellent beta-reader. If she hadn't kept on the beta and pushed me, I wouldn't have the strength to finish this.

Second, for those who sent me email--even when the story was removed from ffnet--asking when I was going to finish it or even repost it. I am flattered that you cared enough to look for the story, or ask for it even when it seemed like I was never going to finish it.

To all those who read the story before, I feel the need to apologize and to explain. What happened was that I accidentaly replaced the rating on the story from PG to R, and since ffnet had banned that category, I was effectively locked out of my own story. I was going to repost the whole thing again, but decided to hold off for two reasons: 1) I was approaching a certain aspect of the story that I didn't know how to write and 2) the whole thing was getting beta'd, so I might as well post when it was done anyway.

Suffice to say, the "thinking" got to be way longer than I thought, and in the interim I wrote a fanfic for a whole different genre. For those who had me on alert, i'm sorry for flooding your box with updates of a different story.

I hope this makes up for the lost time. I will be posting--time permitting--a chapter a day of Remember, until we get to the part where I left off, and continue the story. Me and steph have made some changes, and I clunked some chapters. Otherwise, it's still the same story as before.

Thanks again to those who asked for this!

--kat

* * *

The forest floor felt damp and uncomfortable, and something-a piece of twig-was digging into his spine. There was nothing more that he wanted to do than to get up, but something kept him from moving. 

A voice penetrated his sketchy vision, invading the fog that was building inside his head.

"Tom," B'Elanna said.

He caught a sense of urgency in his voice, but for some reason he couldn't care. He wanted so much to close his eyes., He was so tired.

"Tom please, look at me."

Cool hands touched his face, bringing a moment's relief to his fevered brow. Somehow, he managed to direct his thoughts to B'Elanna, willing himself to understand what it was she was saying.

"You need to stay here, wait for Voyager. I've placed the beacon near your location; they should be here in a few hours."

"B'Elanna?"

"You're in no condition to move, much less fight. They won't find you here. I'll do a much better job of distracting them if I keep moving, draw them away from you."

"No."

Despite his semi-delirious state, he didn't like what she was saying. Distraction? Separating? Bait?

"Tom, listen to me."

There was a stinging sensation on his cheek, and he realized that she was gently slapping his face, getting his attention.

"When Voyager arrives they'll get our distress call, scan for our lifesigns, then beam us out of here. But until they reach us, we have to keep these them away. Do you understand?"

His throat felt raspy, and somewhere in his head he could hear himself begging for her not to leave him.

"You need to stay still Tom, you need to do this so we can stay alive."

"No." he pleaded, but he was too exhausted to raise much of an argument.

He struggled to keep his eyes open, but the poison was beginning to work on him. His vision was blurry, and he could barely make out her face…but hear the urgency in her voice. "Just lie down, Tom."

"Don't go"

I won't. Just close your eyes. Sleep for a bit."

He knew she was leaving as soon as he fell asleep, but he couldn't do anything., couldn't feel anything, except for the big ball of weight resting on his chest, on his eyes, on his head, his hands.

He could feel himself slipping,and just when he thought he was going to die, his body bolted upright while his hands clawed at something that wasn't there.

"B'Elanna" he murmured, his voice came in short, ragged breaths, painfully loud in the darkness of his room. Instinctively, he reached for her, only to find that her side of the bed was empty. His heart constricted in pain. B'Elanna was gone, and even though a year had passed since her disappearance, Tom still refused to believe she was dead.

* * *

The events of that terrible day played through his mind again. Everything had started out so well. But then, they always did. 

The ship had just finished its quarterly overhaul, where nearly everyone had pulled double-shifts to cut down time. But even with the round-the-clock repairs, it had taken them nearly three weeks to get done. Tom had barely seen B'Elanna in those few weeks, forcing him to spend lunch in engineering just to see her, and that was if she allowed herself lunch.

He told himself that as soon as the last relay was fixed, and everything was calibrated and realigned, he was going to ask Chakotay for a vacation-even if he had to drag her to the holodeck just to take it. But just when they thought that things were finally done, another problem had presented itself: They were low on fuel. No one, of course, was more frustrated than B'Elanna. After three straight weeks of practically living in engineering, she was gnashing her teeth at not being able to declare peak efficiency simply because they "ran out of gas".

Despite the bad news, Tom felt ever so proud for seeing the influence he had on his love's lingo.

They were a week into gray mode when they stumbled on a deserted M- class planet, and every engineer on the ship nearly dropped on their knees out of sheer relief at the news. Having a grumpy chief engineer was bad, a grumpy one with nothing to do was worse.

"I've detected large amounts of gallacites in the mountains, Captain, as well dilithium in a rock formation near one of the forests." B'Elanna reported. "Most of it is still raw, I'll need to analyze some samples before I can determine how much work needs to be done."

The captain nodded, the grim set of her features hidden in half illumination. The conference room was lit by two emergency lamps, the lights occasionally flickering as it squeezed out energy from its power cells.

They had come to the planet just in time. With the ship in gray mode they could survive for another two months, but Neelix had warned that they were approaching a region of space that was scarce of needed minerals. Considering their luck, it would be unwise to let Voyager travel nearly defenseless.

As Janeway looked down at the information in front of her, an idea formed in her head.

Ship's morale was at an all time low. They could use something to cheer them up, starting with two crewmen in particular…

"Assemble a mining team B'Elanna. We're practically dead in space at the moment, so you can take as many people as you want. I'm sure a lot of them are eager for some shore leave."

Harry's face broke into a huge smile, and Tom almost let out a whoop. Even Tuvok seemed to be happy about the situation.

"I'm not going to need a lot of people for the initial scan Captain" she said, not blinking as Tom kicked her under the table

"I'm just going to need one of my engineers to go down with me. When we're sure that we can mine it, then we'll see about work rotations. I don't want to waste any of the power in the shuttles ferrying people. I'd even go alone if I didn't think it was against procedure."

This time it was the captain's turn to have a smirk in her face. B'Elanna had said that just to get a rise out of the young Lieutenant, and it was evident in Tom's incredulous face that B'Elanna's maneuver was successful.

But Janeway had a soft spot for young pilot and the workaholic engineer as well. Besides, there really was no doubt in her mind that they were perfect for this mission: Tom was a capable engineer and both needed the vacation. But just for fun she waited until he flashed her his patented puppy dog expression.

"You can take the Flyer, B'Elanna," she said with a smile, "and have Tom fly you." This time, Tom did let out a whoop.

* * *

"That was sneaky," Tom told B'Elanna from the helm of the Flyer. 

She'd just checked their equipment from the aft compartment when Tom swiveled in his seat.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, hoping to start a comfortable banter.

She hadn't seen him in weeks! The week before the repairs he'd spent most of his time in the holodeck. , hiding from some argument that both of them could no longer remember.

At first, Tom thought that B'Elanna announced the repairs as a way to get back at him, maybe avoid seeing him. It was only when his sonic shower tried to render him deaf did he realize how much they needed to stop and give some of the ship's less critical systems a tune up.

"She would have taken you up on your offer to go down on your own, you know," he told her. "It's a good thing I was there for a save, otherwise you would have been stuck on this trip bored and lonely."

"Are you kidding? First of all, it's against protocol to go on an away mission _on a planet_ on your own. And second of all, have you seen how much there is to do?" she shot back lightly. "I think you need to brush up on those Starfleet regulations Tom. I think we have a manual here somewhere…"

Tom didn't say anything as he hit the autopilot and went to drag her back to the helm with him. After a brief yet satisfying kiss, B'Elanna settled into Tom's lap, calling up her plans on his console and momentarily forgetting about such things as "protocol on away missions". Tom smiled at her as she shot him a guilt-free grin.

"You're right about one thing, Helmboy" she breathed, leaning in closer to his lips. "This trip would have been boring and lonely without you."

The few hours in the shuttle may not have been enough to compensate for the past few weeks, but it was certainly enough to release some of their frustrations.

Everything else could wait until they get to Voyager,and this time they were going to make some time. But simply being together was enough for now. _For now._

B'Elannachecked her tricorder as soon as they landed while Tom was checked her out.

His mission was to fly her here, and now that he was done he would let himself indulge.

Normally B'Elanna would have been pissed, but their time apart made her temper lax.

She just sighed and tried not to smile as she made an effort to berate him.

"You know, things would go faster if you helped me out."

"Hey, my orders were to drive you here, and we're here. And didn't you say that you could do this all by yourself?" he teased

"Tom! If the Captain found out—"

But Tom simply walked over and put his hands on her shoulders.

"I missed you, " he said.

And dammit, if she didn't almost melt. _Almost…_ She'd nearly shut her tricorder, but a sense of duty—not to mention the smirk forming in Tom's face—kept her resolve.

But that didn't make her angry.

She sighed and looked up at him. "Tell you what. As soon as we finish up, we'll stay a while to…ah, make sure of things…before getting back to Voyager."

Tom was now massaging the crick on her neck, "Uh-huh…"

"We'll tell the Captain that the scan took, um, a bit longer than expected, seeing that we have this big, beautiful…isolated…meadow and not to mention an equally enchanting forest to get through."

He bent down and let his lips graze her forehead, his hand already palming his own tricorder.

"Sounds like a plan," he breathed.

"Mmmhmm…"

"Maybe afterwards we can-"

His words were drowned out as they heard the soft whine of an engine come from the skies.

They looked up and saw a shuttle breaking through the clouds, about to land next to the Delta Flyer.

"I thought you said this planet was deserted."

B'Elanna shrugged. "It is. Maybe they're also here for dilithium, this planet has a pretty large deposit."

They watched as the shuttle touched down next to them and waited for the hatch to open.

"So much for isolated." Tom sighed. "Oh well, the more the merrier."

It only took a moment, but something immediately felt wrong as soon as the scraggly looking aliens came out.

B'Elanna took an immediate step back, one hand gripping his arm as the other palmed her phaser.

"Tom" she said quickly

He'd barely reacted when he felt the world around him explode in a sea of bright lights.

* * *

Tom tugged on his uniform jacket, watching as the doctor replaced his tools. 

They were worried about him, and perhaps a little scared. No one besides the senior staff had even looked him in the eye, and even they were feeling a bit awkward talking with him.

He'd been jumpy lately, certainly tired. The poison that invaded his system had done a pretty good job at banging him up. The doctor had explained how they almost lost him, worried that he would never wake up from his coma. Now he wished he never did.

B'Elanna was gone.

He knew something was wrong as soon as he woke up, but it took them another day to tell him what had happened.

B'Elanna was gone, captured. Voyager was just two hours away when they had heard the distress signal, but they still couldn't get there fast enough to prevent the Dalians from taking her.

"They're mercenaries," Neelix had told them. "Slave traders and bounty hunters. They're mostly nomadic, though they rarely travel with more than two ships."

But one ship had been enough.

Tom and B'Elanna were doing a scan from one of the mountains when the ship came down from the orange sky. Neither of them even had time to react as two aliens materialized. They had looked human, with no visible markings except for the raised bony eyebrows. But the look in their eyes offered no friendship.

The aliens wanted to enjoy the game. They'd let them go, thinking that they had nowhere to run: two aliens, defenseless, the make injured. How far could they get? Tom could still remember the strange alien laughter as they ran, threatening to hunt them down as soon as they finished their business.

His recollection got hazy after that, he remembered very little details and could not come up with anything except in his dreams.

"Mr. Paris, Mr. Paris! Tom!"

He snapped to and saw the doctor watching him with a critical expression, tricorder already beeping and ready.

"Mr. Paris, when was the last time you had any sleep?"

He grunted and zipped up his tunic. "I got a full eight hours last night doctor, just like you ordered. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to the bridge-"

"Don't bother, you've been relieved of duty."

"What!"

"We know about the dreams Tom," the doctor commented before he could say anything. "I know that you've been having them since you left the planet."

Tom's face clouded as he moved to get out of sickbay.

So they knew about the nightmares, big deal. He'd suspected as much. Not that it was hard to miss; the lack of sleep had long ago taken a toll on him. It hadn't affected his duties yet, but it showed. He'd lost a couple of pounds and he looked tired. All the time. He knew that the captain would call him on it sooner or later.

Apparently that time was now.

"Where are you going?"

"Astrometics, I'm restricted from the bridge right? I'll be there and stare at the stars for a while."

"Seven's there-"

"I'll stay in my quarters then" he said, not wanting to deal with the biting skepticism of a Borg

The hand on his shoulder kept him from moving. The doctor wasn't one to show his brute strength but his programming allowed him to have extended physical abilities.

"To do what? Look at more star charts? It's been four months Tom, we're two systems away. She's gone. You have to accept it. At least let me give you a sedative."

"No!" The force of his shout shocked the both of them. "No. Those dreams are the only way I can remember what happened, without them any chance we have of finding her will be gone."

The doctor looked sympathetic, but was otherwise undeterred.

"B'Elanna is dead Tom! We've searched for months, she is gone."

"We haven't located a body!" Tom lashed out, his eyes slowly growing wild. "You might have given up, but I haven't dammit, and I will not let her go!"

He wrenched his arm from the doctor's iron grip and stalked out. running blindly, desperately to his room.

His instincts were screaming for him to just go out. Head to the shuttle bay and break into the Flyer, or any damn craft that they had. He'd take Neelix' battered transport if he had to, anything just to get to her.

He wouldn't let her go, he couldn't. Everyone was telling him to let go, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't bring himself to do it. How dare they ask him to do such a thing!

A life without B'Elanna, he couldn't comprehend it, much less try to believe it.

The door to his quarters hissed open and he threw himself to his bed.

_I can't B'Elanna, I can't, not without you_, he thought, forcing himself to sleep._Not without you._


	2. Chapter 2

They'd been in the game for too long.

Exhaustion was beginning to set in, but Chakotay refused to let his tiredness show up in his features. He had never lost to Tom before, and although the younger man was not showing any signs of slowing down, he knew that it would only be a matter of time before he started slipping.

They'd done this before, sat in a room and talked, challenged each other. In the beginning, neither man wanted to be in the same room unless it had to be in a meeting or official function, but ever since Tom's relationship with B'Elanna they'd had to amend their self-imposed rules. She was too important to both of them.

Their first meeting had been in the holodeck. B'Elanna had tricked them into that one, scheduling different dates with either of them in the holodeck, locking them in once they got in the same room. The setting had been a batleth court, with B'Elanna gracious enough to leave them two shining batleths in the corner. It was her way of saying "Fight it out, talk it out, you're of no use to me as enemies."

And so they did, for hours. They had fought, both clumsy with the unfamiliar weapon in their hands, providing them plenty of opportunity to duel with words as they did with their hands. They exchanged biting remarks along with large blows, but neither got to the point where they could cause some serious injury. They opened old wounds, bleeding out all the hatred until there was nothing more.

In the end, they'd talked and fought each other out. They still weren't the best of friends, but at least now they understood.

What had begun-as they both thought in their heads-as a fight for B'Elanna, ended in a resolution of sorts. Maybe not of friendship, but that of family. And not just as B'Elanna's family, but of Voyager's.

They were two members of the senior staff, looked up to by the whole crew. They would be stuck here in the Delta Quadrant for the rest of their years; it would do no good for any of them to hold grudges. If the two of them couldn't be friends, then they should at least show some respect for each other. It was their responsibility: to B'Elanna, to the captain, to the crew, and most of all, each other.

And so for the sake of the whole crew, they had at least tried to get along. They still weren't close—far from ibut they made it a point to schedule at least one of these "duels" in a month. Sometimes it would be in the old batleth court, or Sandrines at closing time. Maybe hoverball. They did have some things in common, and they used that as a starting point.

As much as they often used B'Elanna as a starting point.

Chakotay had come in here intending to make Tom face the inevitable: acceptance of B'Elanna death, cherishing her memory, and eventually moving on with his life. He didn't expect the meeting to be easy. In the course of their relationship, Tom had picked up on a few of B'Elanna's habits and steeled himself to be bodily thrown out of his quarters or have one or two things thrown at him. Tom wasn't the most patient man this days, a combination of stress and grief had given him the disposition of a mild tempered Klingon.

But it wasn't a Klingon that let him inside his quarters, but a broken man. And it was that broken man who had him questioning his well-meditated acceptance after six hours of talking.

"She's not dead Chakotay," Tom had said in the beginning of their session

Not dead.

Maybe if he were Tom Paris, with the resolve and blind faith of Tom Paris, he would believe that. But he couldn't have the luxury of blind devotion, not when there was a crew that he had to help get home. A captain who depended on him.

But he would have liked to believe.

Chakotay leaned back in his chair and thought of the young girl he'd met so many years ago.

"I almost turned her away you know."

Tom watched him wearily, not knowing where the conversation was going.

"After her first week in the Maquis, I almost sent her away. She was so young, just a year out of the academy. Alera found her fighting with some scavengers in a junk yard, took B'Elanna with her when she found that she was an engineer."

His mind pictured the young girl, while Tom leaned slightly forward. Although they'd talked of B'Elanna before, he'd never really been specific on how she came to the Maquis. He'd just assumed that she'd come to them and they just hired her.

"I remember thinking that she was so thin, almost skin and bones. She was working as an engineer in one of the seedier freighter services, they weren't known for feeding their workers. When B'Elanna told her that this was the only work she could get, Alera wasted no time in taking her. She didn't care about her temper or that she was a former Fleet, all she saw was this young girl who needed help."

Chakotay's became silent as he became introspective, and Tom spoke to reign him in.

"What made you want to turn her away?"

"What?"

"You said that in the beginning, you wanted to turn her away," he prompted. "What changed your mind?"

"She was family," he answered simply.

"I thought she was too young when she first came in. We'd had younger recruits, but most of them were orphans of the Dominion. They joined the cause to fight, and they had the experience with them. B'Elanna,.when she came in, she had hardly been separated from her mother. They might not have gotten along, but despite the bad childhood she'd led a comfortable life. Her house is related to the Martok's did you know that?"

Tom shook his head, amazed that something of that import could escape him.

"That's part of why her family found it difficult to accept her. A Klingon noble house suddenly has a half breed in their bloodline. And to make it worse, her mother's sacrifice was thrown in her face when her father left. They'd accepted her into the house, but never let her forget who she was."

Tom's heart broke in hearing this, knowing all too much how that was like.

"This was the first time that B'Elanna would be away from the life she knew. She was always well cared for, from her home to the academy. She might have been starving at that hell-hole of a job that she got, but there was still a good chance of her going back. In the Maquis, she'd be branded a terrorist, stripped of her Federation rights and completely disowned by her family. I didn't think she knew what she was giving up then, or that she was old enough to make that kind of decision."

Tom gave him a bitter smile. "You tell B'Elanna that?"

"Are you kidding? She would have ripped my tongue out," he laughed. "I'm not that stupid. Anyway, I never told her. Her first run lasted a week, a pick-up that went bad. By the time she came back, she was much a part of the crew than any of the old ones were. And that's when I saw."

"B'Elanna took to the Maquis like lost child who's suddenly found a home. I read through her profile that first week, she's never fitted in anywhere, from Kessick to her two years at Starfleet."

"You learned all of that in a week?" Tom cut in. It had taken him a year to coax out any personal information on B'Elanna, and they'd had to be stuck in a mine with her split up in two species!

"Don't look so surprised, being a former instructor at the academy has its perks. You'll be amazed at just how accurate those psychological evaluations are", he paused, remembering

"What I read was the profile of an angry girl eager to get away to seek acceptance. One who had a lot of potential, but was never given any chance to try because of her temper. The academy would have been her chance, but she gave that up."

"They were trying to turn her into something she's not," Tom defended hotly

"They were trying to turn her into an officer Tom, that's what Starfleet does. She was just too hot-headed to figure that out, as she is with everything else that she does. She's dealt with everything through her anger, and yet when she came to us, her anger left her wide open. Every one in the Maquis was angry, what she felt was nothing new, but this wasn't what we saw." he argued, the happy memory now tinged with pain

"What we saw was a young woman in need of a family, and in the span of one week, we became that family. She became a respected engineer, a trusted confidant, a valued member of our group. I was about to tell her, but I looked in her eyes, and saw how much she needed us, more than we needed her. It didn't matter to her what she could have thrown away, because what she'd gained in the Maquis was something bigger, a family."

"A family," Tom said, cutting into his interlude "You didn't throw her out because you thought she was family."

Chakotay tensed when Tom's voice got decidedly higher.

"Then you'll understand it if I tell you that she's my family, that she's my home. That I just can't walk away from her when every single cell my body is telling me that there's still hope-"

"Hope on what Tom?" Chakotay cut in. "That she's still alive? That she's still out there somewhere, waiting for us to come pick her up? B'Elanna's a fighter, but if she were truly alive she'd have found a way to contact us by now."

Tom stood, unrepentant, purposefully knocking over his coffee table in the process. "And what do you care!" He shouted. "You gave her up after two months. You and Harry and the Captain. You went inside your damn quarters and had your spirit guide rid your conscience of any guilt. You cut your loses and decided she was dead. I'm not going to do that, I'm never going to abandon her!"

Chakotay watched as Tom lashed out on him and the captain, venting out all the anger and frustration he felt for the past four and a half months. This wasn't how he'd meant for him to talk, but it was certainly a start.

At last, Tom ran out of steam and slumped onto his bed.. He looked at his chronometer and saw that it had been seven hours, a whole shift spent in Tom's room.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was exhausted.

"She's not dead Chakotay" he heard Tom say, tired but with no less conviction.

"Would you rather have the alternative? You heard what Neelix said, these people are bounty hunters and slave traders. If they hadn't killed her, then she might have been sold as a slave."

"All the reason why we should hurry back and save her," Tom reasoned, "I would have taken a shuttle, but I know you and the Captain would shoot me down even before I made it to warp. All I'm asking is a little help in finding her."

Chakotay sighed. Seven hours. Seven long hours. He never actually thought Tom would win.

"She's alive Chakotay. Call it instinct or some Klingon myth, but she's alive and I can feel that. She's not dead," he said "She's alive and she wants to be found."


	3. Chapter 3

The answers were written all over his face as soon as he came in.

"That bad, huh?" Janeway asked.

Chakotay rolled his eyes and collapsed on a nearby chair, clearly exhausted.

And why would he? He'd gone through two and a half shift changes, bypassing lunch and dinner first just to sit down with Tom. As if to remind him, his stomach gave an embarrassing groan that caused Kathryn to chuckle.

"Here, I took the liberty of replicating you something. I had a feeling you would skip dinner"

"And lunch" he supplied "Not that I'd notice. The tension was enough to keep me. Damn thing took eight hours."

"I noticed. I'd almost given up waiting and just gone to bed."

"Then I'm eternally gratefullad that you stayed up for m,e" he smiled, dimpled grin quickly disappearing behind a tunabeing hidden by a sandwich.

They'd basked in contemplative silence, trying to come up with the best way to sum up today's emotional meetings.

"I spoke with Harry today," she started. "He had some concerns aboutexpressed some worries on Tom's sleeping habits, and this idea of reconstructing the events through his dreams."

Chakotay nodded. "Yes, he said something about that. He told me that he could recall pieces of the abduction in his dreams. Nothing substantial though. I told him that a Spirit Quest might help so I scheduled a meeting for this week."

"A spirit quest?" she balked "Are you saying that we let him go through this? Chakotay, he's clearly suffering. , aAiding his delusions would be—"

"I believe him."

"You what!"

"I believe him. I think what Tom is doing is right."

"You spent three days in meditation telling yourself that B'Elanna was dead. Now your saying that you think she's alive."

"I'm not saying that. All I said was that I think what Tom is doing is the right thing. He needs Ttime, Kathryn, to heal, to let her go. If remembering would help him go through with this, then I suggest that we let him."

"But he isn't letting her go, he wants to find her! He doesn't believe that she's dead!"

"And is he the only one?" he challenged, "Had it been any other crewmember, we would have had a memorial by right now."

His steely gaze broke through her resolve, and she decided to confess her own doubts. They'd never discussed the incident, merely mentioning it in the reports. But they never once in the four months thought of how it affected them. In the beginning, everyone was feeling sensitive towards the loss, and there never seemed to be a right moment. Over time, Tom's withdrawal overshadowed everything else.

"I won't lie to you, B'Elanna's death has been difficult to accept, until now. I've come to understand that she may never walk ion the bridge again, or have coffee when she drops offby her reports. I still find myself looking for her when I see Joe Carey take her place during meetings…I think I will for a long time. But I'm trying, Chakotay, as should Tom."

"And he is," he explained. "We should just leave him be, up until you relieved him, he's never neglected his duties, and what he does in his own time is none of our concern. Eventually, he'll come to realize that we did what we had to do for the benefit of the crew. But in the meantime, we should let him have his own way."

The captain didn't seem convinced, and for a moment Chakotayhe was tempted to give her the same speech that Tom had used to sway him.

"_What if it were the Captain?"_

"_What?"_

"_What if it were the captain that was abducted, and your spirit guide told you she was alive?"_

"_My spirit guide wouldn't—"_

"_Would you be able to go on," he argued "Would you be able to wake up every morning, face yourself in the mirror and go about life as usual, even when you know that a part of you was out there somewhere, suffering__?"_

"_I don't have that kind of relationship with the captain."_

"_Yeah? Well you would if you stopped denying yourself."_

Tom had dropped the subject, and he made no effort to pursue it, whether to defend his disassociation with the captain or to explain his hypothetical actions.

Their situations were entirely different. Had Kathryn been abducted he would assume the role of captain, and as a captain he wouldn't have the luxury—as he did now—of keeping himself in suspension for four months, hoping for some miracle that might never happen.

But the argument was enough to win him over, and he'd agreed to stop badgering Tom, as well as keep the captain and Harry off his back, provided that he'd make more of an effort to take care of himself.

He also told Tom that he'd talk to the captain in letting him go back to his duties as helmsman. He wasn't entirely sure whether this made the pilot happy, since it meant less time searching for B'Elanna. He was convinced that the less time Tom spent devoted to her would make accepting her death easier.

"That's probably the best option that we have right now," Kathryn said. "In the meantime, I've arranged for some shore leave."

There was an awkward pause as they remembered the last time they had shore leave.

"That might take some of the edges away, boost morale."

"Exactly, but this idea came from Harry, aimed at one crew member in particular," she punched in a few keys in her terminal "Take a look at this"

It took a while for Chakotay to comprehend what he was reading, but the supporting images supported his thoughts.

"A regatta? In space?"

"Pretty good, isn't it?" she remarked. "If this doesn't get Tom's attention, I don't know what will."

"It could prove to be a good distraction for him, but can we afford it?"

"Gee Ddad, live a little," she replied mockingly. "I think our budget can support this one thing for Tommy and the crew."

"You wouldn't say that if you weren't the one that did the budgeting around here."

The two of them laughed at the situation, and not for the first time, Chakotay reflected on Tom's words abouton his and Kathryn's relationship.

"We do sound like parents, don't we?" he said.

Kathryn just shrugged her shoulders, although her eyes were bright. "Well? I really do think it's a good idea. Harry spent a good part of his day off scanning the sub-space bands, looking for something interesting for the crew. I think they deserve this Chakotay."

He sighed. "I suppose we can fit this in."

"Great" she said, slapping her desk for emphasis. "I'll ask Harry to draw a plan."

"Let's hope Tom's feeling up to it."

"Oh, he will be when he realizes the Delta Flyer will be competing. Harry says he's been working on her for months."

"I guess everything is set."

"Yes, we just have to tell Tom about it."

They stared at each other, waging a mental competition on who should perform the considerable task of telling him, until they both seemed to reach a decision.

"Let's make Harry do it."

"Agreed."


	4. Chapter 4

Two hyposprays.

Tom sat on his couch, staring at the small towers of medication in front of him.

The name of the drug wasn't easy to recall, but he'd remembered it's properties. It was a barbituaratebarbiturate, but with a shocking side effect like that of being somewhat of a mild hallucinogenic-it gave you lucid dreams.

It was banned a year into production, when a lot of it's users found it hard to wake up from their dreams.

They were nightmares, really. For he didn't think anyone who took heavy sleeping pills would want to wake up from pleasant dreams.

Replicating it the drug was a tricky taskthing, but after inputting his medical codes and tweakinga few tweaks in the replicator a bit,and his medical codes, he was able to obtain a considerable dosage. Enough to last a few weeks. But never four and a half months.

He was almost out of it by now. Or And his supply was running low.

Just when he was about to administer the injection, Harry had come in with a PADD padd when he was about to take a shot. He was rambling on about some new activity, something about a race, when he saw the hyposprays. He didn't know what was they containedin it, but he'd immediately made an excuse to go out.

It was only a matter of time before the cavalry got here. Tom thought bitterly. He wondered who it would be: Chakotay, Tuvok. The Doctor. His last conversation with Chakotay went rather well, but their meeting had certainly unsettled him.

The chime sounded and he braced himself for who it was.

"Come!"

There was a brief pause as the doors opened up, and another beat as the visitor waited to go inside. But as soon as he heard the purposeful steps, he knew who it was.

"Captain."

"Tom," she said by way of greeting, eyeing him before she sat on his chair.

He was in a lousy mood andbut with the Captain heyou could never get very far. He straightened up from his position on the couch and turned to his guest.

"Can I get you anything? Water? Tea? Coffee? I could replicate you one."

"No thank you, Tom. I think you and I both know that you've done enough replicating."

"Harry" he muttered vehemently, angry with his best friend for telling on him

Tom didn't say anything, but found out that he didn't have to.

"I've noticed you've been replicating some contraband materials. I don't know how you did it, so I'm guessing you called on some of your more hidden skills."

The leather chair crinkledsounded as she leaned closer to him.

"I've scanned the replicator logs, Tom. You've replicated quite a lot of this drug. You've listed it as a sedative, but the doctor tells me that this contraband is more than that. Mind telling me what it does?"

He considered not answering, but the look on her face made him think otherwise.

"It's a barbiturate. It helps you dream."

"Dream," she repeated

So this was what it was. The doctor had given her the medical specifics, but not Tom's intention of taking it. It was only when Chakotay informed her that the spirit quests weren't working that she figured out what it was.

"It helps me remember some things from the abduction."

"Do you know that in largesuch huge doses this drug can kill?"

"I'm not really concerned about that, I'm only concerned aboutof what it does," he answered, defiant.

Janeway thought of calling him on his staring match, meeting him head on with his rage. But she knew that this was not the proper approach to him. He had withstood eight long hours with Chakotay. She didn't have as much patience and she couldn't afford a screaming match.

The tension was beginning to mount in the air, making her want to squirm in her seat as Tom lashed out at her attack on his defenses.

He was on the edge. She wasn't going to letmake him win.

"Tell me what you have," she told him. "Tell me about the dreams."

TomHe seemed surprised, even though he knew they were all anxious for his answer. Harry had tried to get him to open up about his dreams, but somehow he never felt like sharing.

This time…this time he felt as iflike he needed to tell her.

His fingernails dug into his palms as he tried to recollect his thoughts, forcing his brain to come up with an answer.

"All I have are bits and pieces. I can't even make sense of any of them. I remember her telling me to stay by the bushes, to not to move. I was so tired, they'd been chasing us the whole day and when I got wounded that's when we had to stop to build the distress beacon."

"_I'm hit!"_

_The world around him had exploded into a ball of white as the paid grew on his left shoulder, but he kept pushing himself, blindly willing his legs to go further, faster, even when B'Elanna tried to slow them down to take a look._

"_Kahless, Tom…" she cried, looking at his wound "Let me take a look at this…"_

"_It's okay" he wheezed "We have to keep going"_

_But he could feel his whole body shutting down, the pain…the pain that was spreading through him made it so difficult to move_

He closed his eyes in concentration, his face crunched up as he buried himself deep in thought, trying to come up with every stray memory that was hidden in the recesses of his mind.that his mind could come up.

"I couldn't keep up. I was too heavy…she had to leave me…to keep me safe, to save both of us. She said she had a plan. She said she would come back for me, but she never did. I was so exhausted., I couldn't keep my eyes open. Then I woke up, and I was in sickbay, and…."

Tom collapsed,Kathryn bolted right up her chair as he collapsed, his palms digging in his forehead as if trying to rub outoff the pain.

"Tom!" Kathryn said, and immediately went to his side.

"It hurts," he gasped. "Damn, this hurts."

The chemicals were taxing his brain, forcing it to work overtime as heit tried to recover the hidden memories. Millions of stars were exploding behind his lids even as his brain force-fed him images that he couldn't place.

B'Elanna's voice, calling out to him. The dirt digging into his skin. The sound of alien boots as theyit crunched the gravel beneath them, running towards her, their laughter growing fainter in the distance as they gained on her. There were sounds of her fighting, then calling his name. A ship powering up…then nothing.

There was nothing more.

"I've tried to remember, but no matter how hard I try there's just nothing left. Every night I go to bed thinking that I'll wake up with something new, but everything stops when the ship takes off. I can't remember beyond that."

"Tom, the doctor said your condition was critical when they found you, I'm surprised that you even remember anything."

"But there has to be more!"

"There isn't any more Tom, stop trying to squeeze your brain, you'll kill yourself if you keep this up!" she yelled, angry. "There is nothing else you can do! She is gone Tom. Stop trying to do this. You weren't the only one who loved her, there other people in this ship trying to cope with her loss and your perpetuation of this hope isn't making it easier on any of us. We know you miss her, we want her with us too."

Both of them were close to crying, but no tears threatened to show. Officers never cried, no matter how bad the situation. This was how they were trainedraised. But even as she placed her hand on his shoulder to steady him, she could see the pain reflected in his eyes.

"You have to get through this Tom, don't let your grief consume you. I know it's not easy, but this pain will pass and all you'll have are good memories."

Good memories, like the ones she had with her fiance Justin

It seemed so long ago, but watching Tom had touched old wounds and left them smarting.

When her father and Justine died, there were days when it felt as if her grief would know no end and she'd forever be trapped in a sinking hole of depression.

She'd thrown herself into her work, and sure enough the demanding job of being an up-and-coming Lieutenant allowed her to forget sometimes.

Sometimes.

There were days when all she could think about was him: the life they shared, the one they would never have. Dreams that would never be fulfilled.

She was so caught up in what she'd lost that she had never stopped to consider what else she might be gaining, and what else she was throwing away just because she didn't have the strength to let go of her grief.

In the end, it was her mother who pulled her out of it.

Blinded by her grief, young Kathryn Janeway had forgotten that her mother had lost someone too. To her, her father had always been her father. The man who put her to bed, played hoverball with her, and Phoebe, and later on became her mentor as she tried to succeed in the academy.

But her mother had lost someone different, a man Kathrynshe had never known.

Her mother had lost her husband, her lover, her best friend. Someone whom she had been with, longer than Kathrynshe and Phoebe had been in existednce.

Her grief for Justine wentas beyond words, she couldn't imagine how her mother felt, to lose the man she had shared her life with.

"I just don't want to let her go," Tomhe cried, hands digging into his head. "I'm afraid that if I do, then I feel like if I did, I'll forget about her, people will forget about her. And two years down the road she'll just be this name that you'll come across the crew manifest."

"That will never happen."

"Won't it?" he asked.

He seemed to be lost for a bit, wringingdry washing his hands as he focused on some imaginary point in space. His knuckles were almost raw from the friction, and she tightened her hands to stop him. The touch seemed to get his attention, his gaze shifting back to her as he went on.

"It's the little things that get to me. Her towel that's still on floor, the smell of raktajino when somebody orders it in the mess hall—I'll never forget how always know that she likes hershesr with a bit of mint. Or how, when a crewman from engineering passes, I'll get that whiff of plasma coolant and God, I just wish that wereas her. The way the one corner of her mouth curves uplips pull up when she finds something amusing…it's these things I don't want to forget."

He paused a bit, trying hard to remember a few more things about her.

"But the more time passes the longer it is, the harder it is for me to do that…to do anything. Just yesterday, Harry told this joke and I found myself laughing. I was going to tease Harry about actually saying something funny when I realized that I laughed. _I laughed…_and how could I do that? I thought about B'Elanna and just…how could I laugh when there is still so much of me hurting? When I know that she needs me. I just…I don't know how to go on."

Janeway was more resolute with her answer, maybe because she understood—all of it. Maybe understood a bit too much.

"It may not seem like it, but you will find a way," she reassured him. "'In the meantime, you just have to open yourself to the happiness ahead of you. B'lanna wouldn't have wanted—""

His face darkened, and he averted his head to hide his rage. Acceptance might be the next logical step, but none of them could still help what he was feeling. If anger was the first barrier that he used, then they would all have to learn to break through it.

She switched tactics, picking up the PADD that she recognized as the one Harry had taken from her desk. She handed it to Tom, who accepted it, albeit reluctantly.

"The competition is held in the system of Milos Prime, on a planet called Azar. I've been told by Neelix that they're a very hospitable race. We're looking forward to trading with them and replenishing some of the supplies that we lost while we were in dead space."

Despite his sullen mood, she could see that the information on the PADD had at least captured his attention.

The regatta was part of a grand diplomatic fair held only every four years, an event widely advertised in the sector. There were various activities held in the month long time period, but the regatta was the culminating event. The competition itself was divided into different categories, open to all races, with ships from the spanning sixteen planets hoping for a win.

It was an opportunity that would be hard for a pilot to miss.

"I'm sure Harry's given you an overview of the regatta, this PADD is for some additional information. We thought of entering the Delta Flyer on the shuttle races. Do you think she could win a race like this, since it's the only category that we're presently qualified on."

That in itself was an understatement. Due to the recent happenings, they barely had time to thoroughly mine the dilithium deposits on the planet they were abducted on. They took whatever they could get in the time that Tuvok and the rest of security could investigate the site. After the analysis, they immediately went in search of B'Elanna.

What they got was enough to get them through the scarce expanse, but not for further traveling. So the stop over was not entirely for Tom's benefit, but for Voyager as well.

Tom's eyes flicked up to scrutinize left the PADD to gape at her, and for a minute she thought he would say no.

Instead he asked, "Can we afford this?"

She almost rolled her eyes. What it is was it with men and budgets? She'd expected something like that to come out of Harry and Chakotay, but Tom?

"He must be growing up" , she thought, and not without a hint of maternal affection.

"I've talked it over with Chakotay, and yes, we can Tom. We'll be getting more dilithium from the Azarans so we can afford to give the Flyer some of our reserves. There is a registration fee, though according to Neelix it's nothing that you can't bargain for so I've left him to deal with the negotiations."

Tom's lips had turned up in a hesitant smile. Even though it wasn't quite the same grin that she saw on the old Tom Paris, she knew that this was show of enthusiasm was already a minor feat.

She made a move to go back to her seat when Tom stopped her with a gentle squeeze ofpressure on her hand.

"Thank you Captain, for doing this," he said, his voice sincere

"Don't thank me, thank Harry, he was the one who worked hard to find us something like this. Besides, we could all use a break. I, for one, am looking forward to winning."

They both looked at the hyposprays in front of them, and neither said anything as she gathered all of them and placed themit in her pocket.

He didn't get up as she made her way to the door, and she didn't bother to say goodbye. She'd just gone out, taking his stash with her.

For a long time, Tom stared at the door, wondering what to do. He'd spent the past few months occupying himself with thoughts of B'Elanna, sleeping mostly, in an effort to search in his dreams all the answers. He didn't know what he'd do once he stopped doing that.

He thought of her face, her laugh, and whathow his life wouldmight be like to be without herit.

His mind closed down and he squeezed his eyes shut to instantly purge the thoughts.

"It doesn't have to be now Tom. It doesn't have to be now."

And he found himself slowly drifting to sleep with that recapitulation.


	5. Chapter 5

"_B'Elanna!"_

_They were pulling at her, fingers ripping her arms as she dug in her heels. Their laughter was chilling, malicious, blood thirsty. Her resistance only amused them, causing them to use more force._

"_B'Elanna"_

_She was struggling to fight them, clawing at them. There wasn't much she could do. They were too strong. _

"_B'Elanna!"_

_There was a sound of a ship powering up, sending the dust swirling by their feet. A loud clang as a hatch opened, and she was dragged towards it. The thought of her being taken…_

_Her mouth opened in a silent scream, wanting to reach out with her voice, call for help. Instead she desperately cried out his name--it came out with his name—_

* * *

"B'Elanna!"

B'Elanna's eyes snapped open, and she bolted up, her hand reaching up to caress her stinging cheek. Her breath was coming in short ragged gasps, cold sweat trickled down her forehead as she struggled to control the pounding in her ears.

"B'Elanna, are you alright?"

She looked at the old man worriedly standing next to her. For a moment, she couldn't remember him nor this place, but he pulled out a diagnostic wand and immediately started to scan her.

The actions was familiar, and she immediately heaved a long sigh of relief. "I'm fine, just a little shaken."

However, the old doctor disregarded her proclamation and continued to scan her, punching a few buttons and swearing softly under his breath. He immediately calmed himselfshut up when he saw that she could indeed hear him.

"I am sorry, but you scared us when you wouldn't wake up. I sent Sillo out to get a more powerful stimulant, but I started slapping you just to see if that would work."

Her hand rubbed at a sore point in her jaw. "I guess it did"

Her mind was reeling, filling her with images that she couldn't comprehend, of ships and planets and aliens. And in the middle of it all was a man…

She closed her eyes as she struggled to recall his face, already blurring into nothingness along with the memory of his name.

"B'Elanna!"

She shook her head and hopped off the biobed, probably to placate the old man with a show of her health.

"I'm fine, it's just these things…"

"Is it another dream?"

"No" she told him, her mind grasping at the dying echoes of his name "No Koran, I think it was a memory"

"Do you remember what happened?"

The room was slow in focusing and for a moment she thought she might throw up. The added thinking just made her head hurt.

"I was at the circuit…and that's it. That's all I can remember…"

"What about your memories…what do you remember from then…"

"There was a man…"

"And…"

_Eyes so blue you could drown in their depths and hair the color of sunlight…_

"I don't remember any more…"

She breathed a sigh of frustration, her hand gripping the sheets. She wanted to lash out, yell at someone, throw something…

Instead she closed her eyes and focused on getting her equilibrium back, pushing the memory away. There were more important things at hand, she couldn't let this accident—this episode—distract her.

The old man was fussing with her, waving the offensive diagnostical wand near her face again.

"Koran, stop it!" she barked, swatting at his hand. "It's nothing, I'm fine."

"Don't you think I should be the judge of that? Do you even know what happened? Do you even want to know?"

B'Elanna didn't answer. He looked like he was going to tell her anyway.

"I just finished healing your concussion. You had a collision with one of the riders and slammed into a wall. He claims that it's his fault, that he came at you at a particularly sharp turn and that his breaks were malfunctioning, but that isn't the point," he lectured. "This is your third injury this month B'Elanna. I know that hoverbike racing is a dangerous sport, but you should also know that it takes great skill and agility to be able to avoid them. None of which you possess right now!"

"I said I was fine" she answered gruffly, moving off the bed. "I switched bikes during my last two races, I just haven't gotten the hang of this one."

"Need I remind you that you had to switch hoverbikes because you _destroyed_ the previous ones. And before I forget, the other rider is fine. He suffered a broken arm, but we were able to heal it and he is back on the race."

"Good, because that's where I'm going too," she announced, heading for the door. "Where's my gear?"

For someone old, the doctor had a good grip. He stopped the determined Klingon even before she got halfway through the room.

"Sillo has them, but I don't think that's wise," he said, staring her down. "You've been distracted these past few days, anxious. Your brother has already called me. They're worried. They say that you haven't been yourself."

"_And which self would that be?_" she thought.

Was it the B'Elanna in front of them, or the one that was rescued from that trans-world freighter, bleeding and half-dead, with no memories on who she is and how she got here.

Her family had been very supportive, but worried. In all the months that she'd been in Malta, she'd made no particular efforts to find out who she was or where she was from. Not that she'd have much to go on anyway. When they'd found her, all she could remember was her name—B'Elanna Torres—and the firm belief that she was not from around here. That she was from a planet millions of light years away, and that she never particularly wanted to go home.

As far as she was concerned, there was nothing there. When her adoptive brother—Aron—started a search on who she was, she didn't try to stop him, but neither did she encourage him.

Once in a while, he would ask her for details—where did she think she was from? Did something remind her of her home planet? Gestures and mannerisms, where she thought she got them from. Playing music to jog her memory. He had enormous patience, and since she was fond of him., she extended the same courtesy even if some days she wanted to shove him off a cliff.

He never gave up, and even though she didn't show it, neither did she.

The dreams were nothing recent.

When it started, it was just small pieces of memory. Glimpses of her previous life, too vague for her to even understand or remember. But lately they were clearer, stronger. There were timesdays when she woke up nights sweating and feeling abandoned. Sometimes she missed home, some days she didn't care. But most of the time, she dreamt of him…

"I think we should tell your father."

Her reaction was almost violent.

"No!" she yelled, holding back the growl wanting to come out from her throat "The Minister is a very busy man, he shouldn't be bothered by something as inconsequential as this."

"I don't think he would deem his daughter's welfare as inconsequential. He deserves to know. Your brother already suspects something…"

"Aron always suspects something., it's in his nature to doubt things."

"Aron is by nature inquisitive, a trait that he shares with the Minister." he reminded her. "And he's doing it just to make sure, just as he is making sure that his daughter is _not _hiding anything from him."

"I am not hiding anything!" she countered. "I'm merely making sure that this isn't just a random dream."

"Ah, and just out of curiosity, how often have you had these dreams?"

He continued when she didn't answer.

"If you can't tell your father, then at least tell your brother." he explained. "He knows you remember something, and yet still maintain this apathetic behavior…don't you want to go home?"

Her heart lurched at the prospect. For a terrible moment, her vision flashed, and she felt wholly incomplete.

"I…I don't know," she admitted. "I just…I don't know."

Koran sensed her confusion. Even though the old physician was reluctant to let her out of his care, he knew that it was best to leave her alone.

"Why don't you go home B'Elanna, try to get some rest. I'm sure Aron will be glad to see you and your hard head."

She stuck her tongue out at him, a mannerism not found in Maltans, but he later understood was of jest and had come to find it amusing.. It wasn't disturbing and amusing at the same time.

"I'll ask Sillo to drop your gear at your house after his shift, just to make sure you won't go back to the circuit. I don't want you on a hoverbike for at least two days."

"Alright," she answered distractedly.

The fact that she'd agreed readily made him more nervous. She usually put up more of a fight. This was something…unusual.

"Are you sure you're fine B'Elanna? I can call one of the sentries to take you home-"

"No, that's not necessary," she interrupted, pulling on her jacket. "I think I'll walk home. Clear my head a little. Besides, if I pass out in the middle of the street, the compound is full of people who can pick me up and bring me back here."

Koran couldn't do anything. The door was already hissing shut even before she had finished her sentence.

Outside, B'Elanna zipped up her double layer jacket. Malta was a beautiful planet, but sometimes it could be just darn cold! The residents were used to the cooler temperature and hardly wore any insulation, but even after living her for months she still felt cold!

Yet another clue for her brother to exploit.

It was mid afternoon, so it was technically "warmer". She rubbed hands and looked up at the Malta's lavender skies. An image of a planet's dawn sky surfaced in her head…

_Dawn in the best time to go parking. _

"That makes no sense" she thought, shaking her head to clear her thoughts before heading off to the one place that brought her comfort:

The shuttlebay.


	6. Chapter 6

He found her in one of the old hangars.

There was no sense in being quiet. The heels of Aron's boots echoed loudly on the hard floors, resonating on walls that had been witness to countless of Malta's previous aggressions.

Those were different times. Now the only things that these walls were left to observe were the results of his sister's prodigy. Or rather: _the_ result of his sister's prodigy.

No doubt, there were countless things that occupied her: the Argo, hover-sports and once in a while, even helping him and their father, but this…

"She's a beautiful ship," he remarked, watching how the sun danced on the ships hull from the high windows

B'Elanna sat sprawled near the hatch, fumbling with a few parts. She smiled but didn't look up from her scans.

"I see you've found me."

"It was easier this time," he informed her, slumping down next to her. "When Sillo dropped your things he said you went to the shuttle bay. When I came to fetch you, the guard told me you'd already left. Since I know you weren't home and not in the race track, I knew I'd find you here."

"I'm becoming predictable. I should take her and move again so that she can have her peace."

He gave a rather hearty laugh, patting the big hunk of engineered metal behind him. "Afraid that Jake will know where you are?"

"Jake always knows where I am. If he doesn't, he'll find out soon enough. More the reason why I should finish this up and get her space worthy; I'd hate to have to relocate her again."

There was an undercurrent of irritation in her voice, mixed with that of amusement and affection. He knew that his sister liked having their cousin's attention; it was his _constant_ attention that she found annoying. This wasn't the first time she'd run off to be alone. It had bothered him and his father in the past, but gradually they'd come to understand her need for solitude.

It was this new trend of slipping away undetected that worried him…among other things.

He took a deep breath and wondered how he was going to get her to talk to him. She was so stubborn, and fiercely independent. He'd gotten used to her mood swings, which had gotten better after the time she'd spent with Jake.

Maybe it was best to start with the little things.

"I heard of you had another incident at the race circuit today."

There was a loud clang as she slammed a hyperspanner down and picked up a probe, not looking at him.

"Are you going to give me another lecture? Because Koran already gave me one and believe me it was pretty extensive. I doubt you'll say anything that he hasn't already covered."

"Like the dreams?" he asked.

Aron felt like banging his head on the floor. Whatever happened to starting with the little things? He'd obviously started on the wrong end, and even if it just slipped out, he knew it would do little to assuage his sister's anger.

Might as well just go with it.

"This is the fifth accident you've had in two months, I'm amazed that they haven't disqualified you yet, much less throw you out of the tracks."

"That's because I'm too good," she answered glibly. "This is just a minor setback."

"Which can turn into a major one if you don't stop and tell me what's wrong," he answered, his voice taking in a gentle but firm tone.

"You've been distracted B'Elanna, by something, B'Eanna. I think it's those dreams that you just won't admit to having," he confronted. "And just in case you want to kill Koran after this, I didn't find out because of him. You forget that our rooms share the same wall, and for the past months I've heard you wake up screaming."

He continued when she didn't say anything.

It may only be close to seven months, Maltan time, but he could already gauge her mood swings so well. The first weeks had been difficult, but he—they-never gave up. When he saved her from the slave market, he had only intended to treat her injuries before returning her to her people.

But no one had come to claim her, or went even looking for her, and the Renarran traders who sold her could tell them nothing about her history, only that they'd acquired her from one of their sources.

Her injuries were extensive. Broken bones, internal bleeding, a fractured skull…others would have died, but she managed to survive. Her recovery was rapid, considering her injuries, though not without its challenges. They'd never seen anyone like her, her species. Koran had been very impressed: redundant organs, increased stamina, stronger bone density…Maltans were a hardy breed and B'Elanna—even with her small frame—had the strength of an average male.

Though that did not prevent any negative effects from happening…when she woke up a she hardly remembered anything.

_Amnesia._

That was the word she had used when they explained her situation to her, angry, scared, and bewildered. They had tried recovering her memories, but with no previous knowledge of her biology, they just never knew how to start. Physicians were still studying her case, so in the mean time, Aronhe had taken herim home with himer, where his father welcomed her and treated her like the daughter he never had.

His whole family had fallen in love with her, and despite her initial reluctance, she loved them back. She still had—in so many ways—her reservations, but she had adapted to life her in Malta remarkably well.

Except for when the dreams started.

"I know you have them.,if you stand next to the air vent" he told her. "At first I thought you were crying, but then I realized that you were dreaming. I don't even think you know you had them. You'd be at the breakfast table the following morning, looking…normal. Like you hadn't spent the previous evening thrashing in your sleep…but they've gotten worse, haven't they?"

She hesitated at first, but then she looked at him with guilt stricken eyes.

"Does father know?" she asked softly.

"No. He's aware that something is bothering you, but he wants you to bring up the subject. He trusts your judgment."

Which made things hurt all the more.

"He hasn't found out about your recent accidents, either. He knows you've had a few incidences, but he regards them as sport injuries. It won't be long before he notices something."

She had stopped working now and was just sitting there, picking imaginary lint from her leather race pants while staring off into space. The sun was beginning to set, and it hit her eyes through the old, broken slats. Her eyes turned golden brown in the sunlight, but she didn't even blink.

The air in the hanger was musty, old. There was dust everywhere, the only clean place being her working area. She had been here for months, building a shuttle—granted, a different kind shuttle—trying to drown old demons.

They already knew her penchant for extreme sports, but when she paidhad done a visit to one of the nearby air bases, it was like magic. She had spent more time with the base crew and technicians than she did with them, staying well into the night just testing the shuttles. One of the engineers had taken her for a ride on one of their newer fighters then showed her the mechanics as soon as they landed.

It just seemed as if another door to her past had opened, but this time a better one, a brighter one.

She'd learned their systems in a week. On the second, they had her shadowing one of the crew. At the end of two months, she'd mastered it all and had asked if she could design a shuttle.

She had "an idea" and would like to try it out. Everyone was just stunned by her achievement that they couldn't say no.

So here she stayed, working on her ship oin her spare time. Or sometimes she even made time. It was her private time, spent in her own space. She'd guarded these moments very well and would move to another location anytime she felt like someone was already trying to intrude, not telling them where and just waiting for them to find out.

Which they always did.

"When I woke up…you know I didn't remember much," she started. "Just my name, and that I wasn't from around here. We had some clues as to who I was, what I was like, but you know that there hasn't been anything concrete."

She took a deep breath before continuing.

"But lately, I've been having these dreams…nightmares of when I was taken. I was in a planet, doing…something when _they _took me. We…we ran from them. But he was injured, and I just…I couldn't help him. I was so exhausted. I had to leave him…"

He noticed that she didn't cry. Instead she looked resolute, almost clinical, detaching herself from the pain he knew she must have felt in her sleep.

"Do you remember him?" he asked.

"What?"

"I asked if you remembered him. You mentioned that you had to leave him., dDo you remember his name? What he looks like?"

"I…I don't," she lied. "All my memories have been vague so far. It's like…they're vivid when I'm dreaming them, but as soon as I wake up it all just…goes away. And I can't remember anything except for what I have now."

Somehow he knew that she was lying, that she was holding something back. But she was beginning to open up, that was progress enough.

"Why don't you try writing them down, B'Elanna," he suggested. "Maybe we'll eventually find something useful."

She gave him a rather wry smile. "Anxious to be rid of me, Aron?"

"And miss chasing after you?" he answered back. "No, I think I'll keep you a while longer."

They both laughed, B'Elanna giving him a playful punch in the arm while he gamely pushed her back, acting like squabbling young children.

He missed this.

"C'mon, let's go home. Father won't be back in a while, but I have a feeling that _someone_ will come looking for you if you're not back when _he_ calls. So unless you want to find another hiding place-"

"I'm not hiding!"

"You'd better move. _Now_."

She rolled her eyes and grumbled while she started gathering her tools, but she knew it was time to go. She'd had a long day, accident and all, and he could tell that she was exhausted.

While waiting for her, he reached out and ran his hand on the smooth outer hull of the ship. It was smaller than the usual transports that they had, certainly a different design. Very few people had seen his sisters "secret project", and the select ones who did were impressed.

"You should name her," he said, buffing a smudged spot. "She's almost done. Unless you just plan to call her Ship."

She stuck her tongue out.

"I don't think she wants to be named yet. I'll know it when she's ready to tell me."

"A telepathic ship, what an interesting idea!"

For some reason, the joke didn't settle well with B'Elanna. Aron noticed the slight change in his sister's behavior and quickly changed the subject.

"She's an amazing ship B'Elanna. I can't wait to see her fly."

"You and me both," she beamed ."I've got her on warp 5.5 already."

Aron's eyes widened. Their interstellar ships could only go up to warp 7, their shuttles had a maximum speed of warp 4.75. And yet here was his sister looking like she was bucking for warp 6.

"How in spirit's name did you do that?"

B'Elanna merely shrugged her shoulders. "I'm just souping it up. I just thought about it and implemented the change. Don't tell anyone though. I'm not even sure if it will really hold up to 5.5, we won't know until we test it."

"My sister the engineer," he said proudly. "C'mon, let's go."

After shutting down some lights and locking the hanger, where the two of them trudged up the beaten path to the common street, where a car was already waiting for them.

It was evening now, and he watched as B'Elanna wrapped a scarf around her throat, lightly bouncing on her heels to help get warm. For such a tough race, he never could understand her susceptibility to the cold. All he had on was a light jacket, while B'Elanna had just donned on a sweatshirt. He wished he could increase the temperature of their transport, but he was baking just looking at her.

"Don't worry, it's not very far from the car," he assured her, nodding briefly at the man standing near one of the bushes.

The man answered with nod, gesturing to another sentry before bringing out his communicator.

"Asher to Ghetti Base."

There was a brief click as the person from the other end acknowledged his call.

"The Chancellor has just left with the Provisional Crown."

Aron and B'Elanna settled into their routines as soon as they got home.


	7. Chapter 7

Aron and B'Elanna settled into their routines as soon as they got home. 

First retiring to their bedrooms, Aron would sit sat down on at his personal computer while B'Elanna took a shower, getting rid of the dirt she almost always collected.

They would dressed for dinner, their wardrobe dependeding on who would be tonight's guest. While dressing, both would watched the day's newsreels.

Some days they ate out, and other times it was just her and Aron, their father running late or attending some official function. There were few days that she ate alone, but it was rare that they had nights' like these, when dinner was just the three of them, just family.

Or so she thought.

There were two voices coming out of the library, one of her father, and one that was fast becoming familiar as of late.

"Aha, I told you that you should have called," Aron snickered as they came down. "I bet he came looking for you at the tracks and panicked when you weren't there."

She shoved her brother, pretending to be annoyed while running a hand to smooth her hair. She knew it would be fine, that it should be fine, she'd just looked at it five minutes ago. She even took an experimental sniff at herself, knowing that he could smell the distinction between warp plasma and bike lubricant that always clung to her.

"You'll be fine," Aron whispered. "If he suspects, I'll tell them that you gave me a crash course in shuttle repair at the air base."

"He's probably been to the air base," she muttered.

"Then we'll tell him that it's still none of his business." hHe smiled, before entering the library.

Their father stood up first.

Even at 83, Aman V'On Ghetti was an imposing man. He was in good form for someone his age, his eyes still bright and the ripples on his forehead—which tended to smoothen in old age—was still very much noticeable. His bearing, ever regal, softened at the sight of his children.

"We were beginning to think that you'd gotten lost on the way over here," he remarked, walking over to his eldest.

"B'Elanna took her time dressing up for dinner. I had to wait for her to make sure she'd even make it down," Aronhe joked, taking both his father's hands and then—palms up-brought themit up to his forehead, a Maltan gesture of respect for their elders.

Aman laughed, but it was the man behind him who looked more than pleased with the answer.

B'Elanna resisted the urge to deck her brother and moved to take her father's hands. "My bike needed some fine tuning today, and I decided to do the modifications myself. I didn't want to smell like engine coolant after nearly five days of not seeing you."

"But I'm here tonight," he answered affectionately. "The Terrillians are having their annual Three Moon Festival today. They asked if we could end the meeting early."

As if on cue, he turned to his right just as the man lingering in the background—watching this rare family interplay-stepped upfront.

"And since we had some time to spare, look whoat I brought home with me"

"Jakobian," Aron greeted, shaking hands with his cousin briefly before watching him move on to his sister.

One would think that the two never saw each other.

"B'Elanna," he smiled, walking right to her and placing his hands on her slim waist.

Her arms went right around his neck as she returned his hug. "Evening, Jake"

Aron was amused while their father looked on with a watchful eye, mindful of the growing interaction. Jakobian had already expressed his interest towards his daughter but had not yet hinted a proposal, though he suspected that this was due more to B'Elanna than to his nephew.

After giving B'Elanna a peck on the cheek, the two separated, and the party adjourned to the dining room.

The conversation centered mostly on recent events—particularly the trade negotiations her father was making with the Generran governor and how Aron was fairing as his temporary representative in the Local Council.

B'Elanna tuned most of it out.

She never really cared much for politics. Just because she lived with it, it didn't mean that she had to like it. She got what she needed to know from listening to Aron and watched the rest of it on newsreels. It was bad enough that she had to try to know these things, when all she wanted to do was to sit down with some shuttle modifications…

She felt a sharp kick on her shin, making her wince and glare at her brother.

"B'Elanna!"

She looked to the head of the table and blurted out, "Yes, Captain?"

The table was silent as they all processed what she had just said, not quite knowing what to say.

At last, Aman seemed to recover and merely laughed.

"I've been called various honorifics but I don't think I've been called Captain before," he said. "I asked how things were with the shuttle. Someone at the meeting today asked about my daughter's "pet project". He mentioned that it was so brilliant that it might just add it to our fleet as a scout."

For a moment, B'Elanna was a bit lost on what he was talking about, and Aron was quick to the rescue.

"I just saw the Argo today father and they're right: she is brilliant."

"Yes," she answered. "Yes she is, she'll be the best there is, father. Warp 7.5, a new array of weapons and multi-phasic shielding. There's more of course, but you're just going to have to see it when she goes out to do her best."

Aron smirked, and Jake balked at her obvious candor. Aman merely beamed with pride.

"Then I guess I can't wait."

After dinner, father and son left B'Elanna to say goodbye to Jake.

They had gone to Aman's study, which had a balcony with a great view of city. This was where the two of them usually talked: about business, about strategies, current affairs, family, Aron's mother. Though tonight, it was about B'Elanna.

"How is that ship of hers?" Aman asked his son.

"Which one?"

"The one that we're not supposed to talk about" he answered.

Aron took a nice long sip of his brandy and smiled.

"It's pretty impressive, better than the Argo. I can assure you that, though she hasn't named her yet."

"Give her time. It took her months to name the Argo, a ship so close to her heart should take longer for her to decide. What is she calling it?"

"Ship," he said. "We just call her 'Ship'"

Aman nodded his approval, though his face turned to that of concern.

"How is she, Aron?. I know she's been having difficulties lately-"

"She's fine, as well as can be expected," he cut immediately, and then hesitated, this was his father he was talking to.

"The ship is helping her cope. I won't lie to you father, she's had some difficult moments, but she's fine, considering her previous condition. Mostly she just works on her Ship. There have been some instances that she runs off on her own, but I think it's mostly because she just wants some time to herself, maybe even get away from Jakobian."

This time, Aman gave a snort.

"He is persistent, isn't he?"

"Father, she placed a dampening field around the hanger. The only reason I found her is because she left me _clues_ as to the places that I might find her, and she only told me for safety reasons. It took me three hours just to figure themings out."

They both laughed.

"Jacobian can be an intense young man," Aman said. "B'Elanna likes him, she's just setting her bounds."

"Yes, he is a suitable man for our B'Elanna," he mentioned, somewhat sarcastic.

Though he liked his cousin and got along well with him, there was something about the relationship that Aron didn't like.

_Maybe this is how all big brothers feelare like_, he thought.

He'd never been an elder brother, and certainly not to a younger sister. His brother had died in the same shuttle accident as his mother. It may have been twenty years ago, and Aron was only nine at the time, but he felt the loss of both his mother and the protection of his older brother.

Kaleb was ten years older than he was and looked after him, just like he was looking after B'Elanna.

There was just so much about her that fascinated him. Most of the Maltan women he knew were reserved, almost docile. And though he didn't entirely object to their breeding, there was something refreshing about his sister's fiery demeanor that he wanted to preserve.

The way she spoke her mind and her courage to try new things, dangerous things, . Her devotion to her family—to him and most especially to his father, how she always gravitated to him when he was there.

Even when she was irritatingly short- tempered, Aron didn't mind putting up with her.

His sister's temper was also fast becoming popular in the tracks. Her search for perfection in her engines drove her—and some others—to do double the hard work. She was frustrated easily, angered easily.

He didn't know if this was due to her brain injury, or simply her nature: she just had less patience than everyone else, though he commended her efforts to curb her temper. There were few occasions where she threw some things in anger, but she never truly became violent. Though with the stress in which his sister often placed herself in, he could understand some broken crockery-not to mention a fractured jaw from one persistent suitor or two.

There were certainly a lot of men who were interested in her when she had first been introduced, but somehow she had chosen "Jake".

AronHe had nothing against Jakobian. They'd grown up together, shared the same tutors, played the same sports, shared the same ideologies and respected one another. He was a bright young man, certainly handsome, and was one of Malta's leading fighter pilots.

But just like Aron, he was brought up to answer to his family's traditions. Although they'd never competed with each other, he knew that Jake was looking for a wife who could rise to the challenges of their upbringing.

And though B'Elanna was doing well integrating herself to their family and to their culture, Aron didn't like the way their relationship was changing her.

Already she'd become more subdued, almost…submissive when she was with Jake. Worste of all, she seemed to like it. To contain herself, when she was with Jake. Perhaps she wanted to please him—maybe too much.

Or it could just be circumstances.

His sister was following a very difficult time frame, and working on _two _shuttles andwhile racing was not helping her situation.

"Still, I think Jakobian could do with someone like our B'Elanna. Her brevity will match his strong will." Aman explained "Jakob may be brilliant but he can be an ass—much like how his father was."

There was a round of laughter as they both drank to that.

* * *

B'Elanna waited until Jake was on his transport before closing the door and running towards her room.

_So many things to do…_

The incident at dinner alarmed her.

Captain? Where did that come from? Was she a soldier? If so, for whom? And what did she do and where did she work? If she workedit was on a station, then her planet would be more than a few solar systems than here.

_But do you really want to find them?_

If they were nearby, then surely they would have come to find her. Malta was a hard planet to miss, settled in one of the busiest parts of the quadrant.

Thinking about home, made her feel lost and, like she was far away.

She'd made a good life here, with a family who loved her, friends who cared about her, and the freedom to do whatever she wanted, like build shuttles and race.

But no matter how many times she avoided the issue, the question still remained:

_Who am I?_

It didn't help that the memories that she seemed to have didn't make any sense.

Tonight, as she was walking in the gardens with Jake, she looked up into his eyes and found herself thinking that it was…wrong.

Jake's eyes were a deep green that shone with affection, but all she could think about was that it was wrong.

_I remember flashes of ice. Of fire burning eyes, which shone like the core when in passion or angered, only to dissolve into a gentle flame…_

_Then the only thing I would see is love and an intense hunger…_

B'Elanna had immediately told him that she was tired. That she'd had a long day and she needed to get up to early to finish her work with the Argo.

Jake had smiled at her, leaned down to kiss her cheek, and told her he'd drop by tomorrow to see her at the shuttlebay.

She sighed.

Moving to her terminal, she opened a new file and attempted to write some of things that she remembered.

_His laughter singing in her ears, lighting his eyes the color of the sky, darkening as he looked at her in wont and hunger…_

B'Elanna blinked, her hand shaking near the monitor.

"What was that?" she thought.

Or rather, who was that?

Her heart was hammering in her chest, blood pounding in her ears like a million drums announcing something that she could not comprehend.

She jumped on her seat and started pacing the room, attempting to walk off this sudden bout of restlessness. Her hands itched to throw something, break something…anything to get rid of this…_Longing_ that she felt from within her. To touch, to feel…

_His skin, warm beneath her questing hands. The scent of him making her head swim, igniting her passion, sated only by the sweet taste of his blood__…_

_Could almost feel his touches, have his scent__, hear a longing in a voice that she struggled to remember…_

Gha'ycha!" she screamed in frustration, her hand knocking of a vase on her bedside table.

_Why can't I just see his face?_


	8. Chapter 8

"That's the last of it."

Tom turned to the young man next to him, watching as he crossed to the middle of the room and into the bedroom where he was now standing.

Everything was…empty. But everywhere they looked, their minds were filled with memory.

In their heads, barren shelves still held souvenirs from various trips, the sofa still had her soft throw, and the empty coffee table was filled with PADDs from engineering.

And the bedroom…Tom looked at the sparse bed, trying to come up with something, anything to feel closer to her, but there was nothing there.

The mattress and the sheets were newly replicated. Tomorrow, Maintenance would come in and give the walls a fine scrub, set the bathroom to its default settings and take away B'Elanna's personal modifications. By mid afternoon, a new crewmember would take over the quarters on Deck 9, Section 12. But to both Harry and Tom, the room would always be B'Elanna's.

It had taken them months before they could do this and though Tom knew that this day would come and prepared for it, he didn't think there would ever come a time that he would be ready.

But he did it anyway.

"Are you going to be okay?" Harry asked him.

He nodded; his grip tightening on the isolinear chip is hand. There was nothing of B'Elanna here anymore. Most of her things had been recycled, save for the things that she had left to the crew in her will.

There was nothing in here but ghosts.

"I just…I need to be alone, Harry."

There was a moment's hesitation, before Harry put a comforting hand on his shoulder and turned to leave.

And Tom was once again alone with his memories.

-

Voyager was having one of its few peaceful nights, with no attacks and no repairs going on. The corridors were deserted, with most of the lights dimmed to half illumination.

Harry waited until he was on the turbolift before tapping his COM badge.

"Ensign Kim to the Captain."

There was a slight click before her voice came through the lines, deep and reassuring

"Captain here, Harry…So how did it go?"

"It went…alright. He sent most of the boxes off to Maintenance, signing on the release forms. He's following B'Elanna's wishes to the letter; he even delivered some of the items himself."

The lift stopped and he got out on his deck, heading for his quarters.

"There was a minute when he went down to Engineering to give Joe some technical manuals that was particularly difficult, more for Joe I think than for him."

There was a pause as he entered his room.

"Then we just…we went back to B'Elanna's quarters."

The captain was silent for a minute, and he could hear someone whispering in the background before she came back again.

"Things seemed to have gone very well, Harry. Thank you for being there."

Harry merely sat down on his desk, mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted. He spied a lone isolinear chip, still sitting near his terminal.

B'Elanna's last letter to him.

He picked it up and placed it in, his mind already playing the words over and over even before his hand pressed play.

"Don't say thanks Captain, I needed this…just as much as Tom did."

-

Captain Janeway signed off after a few minutes, sighing before going back to the dinner table where Chakotay had been listening.

"That went pretty well," she said, taking another sip of her wine "It's been months now; I personally didn't think he'd be able to do it. It's a good thing he thought about it, I don't think I could have ordered him to."

Chakotay reached out his hand and she took it, her lifeline and touchstone.

"You could have, it would just be very painful" he answered meaningfully.

Last week's memorial service had taken a toll on everyone. Even though it had already been six months, the gathering had made everyone feel B'Elanna's loss anew. And no one missed her presence more than the senior staff.

"I know we've had dozens of meetings, but somehow I still expect her to show up on that door instead of Carey. When I call for engineering, I have to take a few seconds to remind myself that she won't be answering."

"I know," he answered, "Every time I look at the duty rosters I have to remind myself that we're one crewmember down, that I don't need to assign her..."

They were both silent for a moment, grateful for each other's company, savoring this time—_their time-_together.

"Speaking of duty rosters, I've given Paris the day off tomorrow. He could use a few hours off the helm."

"That's a pretty good idea. Though he'll probably spend it working on the Flyer, trying to get it ready for the race."

"It's a good thing we have that ship," he answered. "Otherwise, I don't know what else he could have done."

-

Tom looked at the gray and yellow grids before turning to the panel and slipped in the isolinear chip.

He'd found it under B'Elanna's bed, when he was starting to pick through her quarters. The simple footlocker was her hiding place, where she stored various mementos and most of his surprise gifts.

The label had simply read: Tom's Program.

It had surprised him, since B'Elanna hardly wrote any holodeck programs for him. Most of what she had were training or beach programs, all of which were stored on the database and only needed slight modifications.

This was an entirely new program written from scratch..

Usually, it was he who made programs for them: a new restaurant program in Paris (sort of a gag gift), a hiking program, his boat on Lake Como, a ski lodge on the Swiss Alps; although most of his recreational programs were for himself.

The F1 racing, the mountain climbing, his F14 dog-fighting program. All for himself and took hours to make, much to her irritation. If he'd only known that his time with B'Elanna would have been cut short…

That was probably why this program meant so much, now that he'd seen it. When he'd first keyed it in, he almost couldn't believe that it was B'Elanna that made it, had made it for him, for them, probably as some olive branch to spending more time together.

"Computer, initiate program Torres-Omega-Pi"

There was a beep as the scenery came to life.

It was a stretch of mountain road, not unlike that of the cliffs of Monaco, only sharper, with the turns tighter. It was a challenge that she knew Tom would have enjoyed.

And right in front of him was a race bike, a Buell Lightning done in electric blue.

He reached for the bright blue helmet dangling from the handle bars, staring at it for a while before putting on his gloves. A perfect fit, just like the jeans and the shirt and the leather jacket now had on. It was exactly what he would have worn had he programmed it himself.

B'Elanna had thought of everything…almost everything.

Tom donned on the helmet and got on his bike, starting the engine, hearing it roar in his ears.

"Computer, initiate Paris Modifications Delta One"

The computer took a few milliseconds to process his request before the monotone announced "Modifications complete."

For the past weeks, he'd worked done nothing but fly the ship, fix the Delta Flyer, and spend time here, in her program for him, adding and finishing his modifications.

The afternoon sun shone high above his head, and he knew as soon as he turned the dangerous cliffs, the seas would come into view.

Maybe she'd thought that they could spend some time on the beach below. He'd never know now, would he?

He gunned the engine, ready to tackle the road ahead as he slapped down his visor.

"One last thing computer," he said. "Disengage safety protocols."

Alarms were blaring in his head even as the computer cheerfully told him that there was no way in hell could he do that.

But the modifications had taken care of that…among other things.

There were some serious drops, but Tom didn't mind them as he tackled a turn dangerously close to the edge.

All he could feel was the speed as he moved on the ground, sending a loud rumble in his ears.

_"You spend more time with Harry playing that stupid Captain Proton than you do with me!"_

_"C'mon, you know that's not true. And I have a hot part for you as Captain Proton's sexy engineer girlfriend."_

_"I know you love me Tom, but you have the weirdest ways of showing it."_

His hands tightened on the bars as he shifted gears, compensating for the steep ascent that she'd put in, feeling the strain on the engines.

_"Dawn is the best time to go parking."_

_" I thought you said any time was the best time to go parking."_

_"With you, it is. I don't even need the car."_

He took another steep turn and for a moment he slowed down as the beaches revealed themselves. Gulls were flying high overhead, he could almost smell the sea…

In a few minutes, he knew that his modifications would kick in.

_"The best damn ship in the Delta Quadrant."_

_"She's my baby too, you know. With the number of times I've helped build and rebuild her, you could almost say she was my ship."_

The rider came down fast, jumping on the road higher up on the cliff, the sun glinting on the red metal.

Minutes from now the two of them would share the same road, and he readied himself for the challenge.

_"Do you ever think of home? Do you ever wonder?"_

_"Everyday B'Elanna."_

_"A lot of times I'm worried. What if we never get back?"_

_"Then that's okay too. You are my home, B'Elanna, and Voyager is our family."_

There was the sound of crunched gravel and burned tires as the rider fought to catch up with him, already no more than seven meters behind his rear wheel.

_"Sometimes I think you like your engines more than you do me."_

_"Not really, she can be just as difficult. She even has your eyes."_

"Damn, you're good," he muttered as he swerved to avoid the rider who was edging him to the face of the cliff.

If he could keep this speed up…

_"It's one step forward and two steps back, I'm sick of this relationship Paris!"_

He banked hard on the left, making a tight turn while making sure his opponent couldn't get through.

_"Well, your attitude sure ain't helping, Torres!"_

Tom kicked up to a higher gear, his rearview mirror showing that the rider had just done the same.

_"I don't' think I've ever been jealous of a car before."_

_"And how many girlfriends have you had who can soup up a 1969 Camaro?"_

_"Just you, Chief."_

_"You bet, now hand me that box wrench…"_

"Just a few more…" Tom thought

He saw the end fast approaching, and the exit to the Marina that was just a few kilometers below…

_"You're scaring me Tom. Some day something will happen that really will crack open that head of yours…"_

_"Great. Then you can finally find out just how much is in it."_

_"Pig."_

_"But you'll take me anyway."_

The designated finish line came into view, and Tom slowed down, revving his engine and doing a wheelie. The rider behind mimicked his moves, as the two of them edged to a stop right next to the beach exit.

His heart was pounding, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He reached down to turn off the engine, feeling the bike shudder to a stop.

He pulled off his helmet and wiped some of the perspiration on his forehead.

"Great race!"

The voice made him turn to his left, watching as the other rider left her bike and took off her own helmet, shaking down her soft dark waves.

Her eyes were bright, and her smile lit up her face.

"You were pretty good Helmboy, but I'll get you in the next race."

His eyes watered as she approached him.

"B'Elanna" he breathed.

_This_ was his modification. To share the holoprogram that she made for the two of them.

When he first ran it, he knew. He wanted her. Missed her. Would take her, in any shape or form—a dream, a hologram, an hallucination.

He needed to hear her voice, have her talk to him. to hold her again, even if it wasn't real, because God knows that without her, nothing around him seemed real anyway.

But he couldn't do it.

Even as she ran to put her arms around him, he knew that he couldn't do this to himself—to her. It wasn't real. It wasn't her.

He took one look at her, her pert nose, those amazing ridges, and the smile and that laughter that he knew to be just for him…

"Computer, end program!"

And just like that, she was gone.

_How much more of this…_

Tom stared at the empty holodeck, angry and hurting. He'd cried so hard, ached for so long, he wondered when the day would come that he no longer had to feel so…alone.

But even as he wished for all the pain to go away, he knew that he would never want to stop missing her.


	9. Chapter 9

B'Elanna wasn't a morning person—a most unfortunate thing because her father and brother were. And to add insult to injury, so was Jake.

"It must be the genes," she muttered, as she wandered around the hangar, trying her best to stay awake.

She may not remember anything from her past, but there was one thing she knew for sure: she could stay up longer than most people, but once she was down it was impossible to get her up.

She could hear Jake happily chatting with one of the pilots, detailing flight plans and maneuvers. They could be talking about leading a flock of chickens for all she cared. It was too early too talk about _anything._

There were one or two adjustments that still needed to be made, so she squared her shoulders and neared the gleaming new shuttle.

Her hand reached out to the sea green hull, more to prop herself up than to touch the ship. The metal felt cool under her hands, smooth, and all at once she was suffused by the oddest sense.

At first she thought she was remembering, but the feeling was different. It was almost like déjà vu…

Suddenly her nose twitched as a distinct aroma filled the air. Ha! She knew that smell.

She was about to turn around when she felt a hand on her shoulder—

* * *

"Coffee?" 

Tom snapped out of his reverie and found himself looking at the hazel eyes of the Talaxian.

He was a little disoriented at first, but then he set his sight on the steaming cup that Neelix was holding out to him. He took a few sniffs, making sure…

"Don't worry, it's replicated coffee" the Talaxian assured him "The Captain thought that you needed a little picker upper for this morning, seeing that you've been working so hard!"

Tom just sighed and took the proffered cup, wondering how in the world Neelix could be so damn cheerful at such an ungodly hour.

Looking beyond the forcefield of Voyagers shuttlebay doors, he could see the darkness of space and its perpetual starlight. The computer kept telling him it was already morning but he was convinced, with fond memories of his bed, that it was most definitely still night.

He was exhausted. With the day of the race so near, he'd started working double shifts in fixing and modifying the Flyer. His time on the helm had been significantly reduced, which he didn't mind because there was still a lot of work to be done in order to accommodate the race requirements.

A respite from his duties at the conn was just one of the few perks brought by this event. An increase in replicator allowance, engineers at his beck and call, more holodeck time so that he could relax, but not an increase in the one thing he needed most: _sleep_.

He leaned on the Delta Flyer for a bit and rubbed at his tired eyes. Maybe he'd take a nap this afternoon…

Or it could be just the morning. For some reason, he'd felt really…_odd_…since he'd entered the shuttle bay. Like he'd already done this, or had been here to do this…

He sighed. He didn't need to think about this, he was so tired. Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a while…

"Tom!"

* * *

The loud crash woke B'Elanna up. 

Or semi-woke her up, as she realized that it was just a broken cup and nothing really important. She bent down and sluggishly picked the pieces up, the coffee already spilling in all directions.

"You alright, B'Elanna?"

She looked up at Aron, who was staring down at her with a worried frown on his face.

"I'm fine, it was just…I drifted off for a while and the cup slipped from my hand," she sighed. "This just isn't my morning."

"You _never_ have any mornings," he joked. "I don't think you turn into a person until after 8am."

"Very funny. You wouldn't be feeling very chipper either if you had to stay up most nights for the past week just getting this ship-"

"—an already brilliant ship-"Aron interjected.

"-ready. It's annoying enough that we have to build this thing according to their specifications, but we have to reset everything once all this is over!"

"Which you'll probably love, seeing as you like to spend more time here than anywhere else."

Actually, she'd come to ride around Kiva Mountain on her hoverbike, much to Koran's dismay. For some reason, just cruising on those empty mountain roads relaxed her after being cooped up with engine parts all day.

It was like reuniting herself with something that she wasn't aware was missing…

"I just like working with my engines Aron, that doesn't mean anything: I'm not using it as a form of escapism, I'm not running away from Jake; I just want her to give her best performance, that's all."

Her hand slipped, and the jagged ceramic edge cut through her tender skin…

* * *

"Ow!" 

Tom cursed and started sucking on his index finger, his eyes watering for a bit at the pain.

Neelix immediately came out the hatch to check on him.

"What happened?"

He sucked on his finger some more before pulling it out in a grimace, annoyed that he could be so clumsy.

"My finger got caught when I was closing one of the panels. It hurts, and it's annoying me."

Neelix merely chuckled, looking at the finger that was already turning a bit purple.

"First you fall asleep standing up and break your cup, now it's daydreaming then pinching your finger. You ought to pay more attention Tom," Neelix kidded. "Next thing you know, you'll be crashing the Delta Flyer into an asteroid field, and Baytart will be flying Voyager while you spend the rest of our trip scrubbing the shuttle bay floors."

"Thanks a lot for the support Neelix" he answered dryly "Although your right, I do feel a little light headed this morning. It's just…God, did the Captain have to schedule the spot check so damn early? Why couldn't she just have come down this afternoon, then I could have gotten up at a _decent_ hour and provide her with a _decent_ progress report. And not this-"

He yawned—hard.

"-This half-schlepped attempt at giving her a tour on the new and very much improved Flyer," he said. "Heck Neelix, I don't even think she's ever looked this damn good!"

He gave the side of the Flyer a nice pat, wishing somehow that B'Elanna could be here. The modifications were pretty good, but he knew that with her added input it could have been superb!

He could already feel the pain growing in his chest and shook his head. He didn't need this…not right now, certainly not this early in the morning.

"You know, I think this calls for a celebration Neelix. What about something good to drink to toast her off?" he said, "Rations on me, bring out the coffee!"

"Coffee? I admit it's my favorite drink, but I hardly think it's the proper drink for this celebration!"

Hearing the Captain's gravely voice in the shuttlebay woke him up more than any cup of coffee ever could.

"Captain!" he straightened up. "I thought you wouldn't be here for…another hour!"

His sleep-addled brain caused him to somewhat panic, wondering how he could explain to the Captain that she wasn't quite done yet…she could use a new coat of paint.

"She looks fine Tom," the captain told him. "I can't wait to hear what you've done with her."

"Hear? Why not experience? Give me until this afternoon and I can take you and some of the bridge staff out for a ride. I've got her so tuned up I could stop at a dime if I wanted to."

She laughed at Tom's colorful idiom. Her helmsman's creative 20th century language never ceased to amaze her.

"We'll try and schedule a test flight, Tom. In the meantime, why don't we have a drink?"

"A drink?" he asked.

As if on cue, Harry emerged from the other side of the Flyer, carrying a large bottle of champagne.

"Surprise!" he called out, with Commander Chakotay following behind him, his hand laden with champagne flutes.

"We thought we'd congratulate you on a job well done," Harry told him.

"Indeed. Your work with the Delta Flyer has increased her efficiency by 72.5 percent," Seven announced, appearing beside him. "I have no doubt that she will prove to be a worthy opponent in the race."

They all laughed at her observation.

The Commander started passing around the champagne flutes, Harry, Tom, the Captain—with the exception of Seven who didn't drink and Tuvok who was manning the bridge.

"Why don't you do the honors, Tom?"

"Who me?" he laughed, feeling somehow carefree for the first time in a long time.

He handed the Commander his champagne glass and took the bottle.

He wrapped his hands on the neck, giving everyone a grin.

"Okay, you guys, ready-"

* * *

B'Elanna winced as she heard the pop in the air. 

A child cried somewhere in the background, lamenting the loss of her precious balloon.

Considering the short notice, the turn out was pretty good. The airbase was full of people. And from where she stood in the platform, she could see more than a few civilians and their families. All of whom came out to watch the naming and inauguration of the newest addition to the Maltan fleet, and the bearer of this year's peace treaty.

She wasn't much for parties and official functions. Most of the time, she left duties like this to Aron and her father, attending only when they needed an escort or the gathering was filled with engineers or was directly a science matter.

Either way, getting roused on an early Sunday morning with hardly any coffee didn't put her in a very sociable mood. Not to mention the fact that all the smiling was beginning to make her jaw hurt.

Her family was in attendance: her father, brother, Jake, his parents, various aunts, uncles, some cousins, and nieces and nephews.

She stood there, watching the festivities in her flightsuit bearing the Imperial Seal, trying to look like she was listening to the speech her father was delivering.

"At least try to look like you're enjoying it," Aron muttered next to her.

She turned to look at him. His eyes had never left the crowd, his open smile not having left his face since the ceremony started an hour ago.

"You look like an idiot, Aron," she said through her smile. "Anymore of this and my face will freeze this way."

"Could be worse, you could have been left with a frown," he countered. "But then, what change would that bring, seeing that you, dear sister, are always a grouch."

This time her smile was genuine. "A grouch? Where did you get that term?"

"I got it from you, along with most of your silly little words," he laughed.

B'Elanna said the weirdest things. The universal translators took care of communications, but sometimes he wondered if it was functioning correctly.

Like when she said things like "cool" to express that she's pleased or referred fixing her ships as "souping them up" or saying "That just sucks" when something didn't go her way.

Her people certainly had the oddest language…but he'd picked up on some of them anyway. Some of them were catching and rather…_cool._

"Okay, now try and look serious," he said.

"I'm on it," she answered, leaning slightly into him as a flash went through her peripheral vision.

They both turned to their right as another flash went up. She was blinking out the lights just as the photographer smiled, mouthing "thanks" before moving on to take other pictures.

Behind him was a little girl, sitting on her father's shoulders, giving her a wide smile and a little wave.

B'Elanna waved back, smiling at her before looking at the man who so happily balanced his young daughter high up on his shoulders. All of a sudden, she couldn't help but have this sad feeling of wont and abandonment…

* * *

"He would have been proud of you." 

Tom nearly jumped as the captain crept up beside him.

"Wha? I'm sorry Captain?"

"I said he would have been proud of you, your father," she told him, taking a sip.

"You think so?" his smile was rather wan, as if it were afraid to come out and just believe her.

"He's never been satisfied with anything I've ever done, why start now?"

"Because she is a brilliant ship; something like this doesn't come out of everyone's heads, as a pilot you should know how special she is."

"I know Captain, believe me I know."

There was a long pause as they stared at the Flyer, both remembering the same thing.

"But she's not just from me; she was born out of the crew. Harry, Tuvok, Seven…B'Elanna…" he said.

"I remember how the two of us would just…talk about her. We talked about creating our own shuttle when we got back home, and she had all these ideas…I thought I'd have to wait a long time in order to have a shuttle built after my specifications but here she is…right in front of me. She's come a long way from her original designs. Now she's all souped-up and B'Elanna can't even see her.

Tom tried to reign in his emotions as he looked around the shuttle.

"She always said that the Flyer was her ship just as much as it was mine. It was…it was our baby, I guess. Seeing the Flyer just…it reminds me of her. It was a marriage of both our skills and every day I see the marks she's left in this ship."

The Captain placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"And she's still there Tom, she's still there."

"She is a great ship," he concluded. "Funny isn't it? The Flyer's my best work and she was the best thing that ever happened to me. I would have loved for my father to have met her; I think they would have gotten along. Their both dedicated to their work, sticklers for honor, both stubborn… Now at least this way he'd get to see her work."

He felt the pressure increase on his shoulder, as the Captain lifted her glass.

"To the Flyer and To B'Elanna."

Tom lifted his own glass, his breath catching on the toast.

"To B'Elanna."

* * *

"To B'Elanna!" her father called out, the crowd erupting in cheers "Who built this wonderful ship! May she bring glory to Malta!" 

There was a round of applause before her father motioned for her to approach him on the podium.

"And I think that it's only fitting, for her creator to christen her and lead her on her first flight!"Her father flashed a proud smile, and Jake was clapping so hard she knew that his hands must hurt. Beside her, Aron was nudging her to go on stage.

"Go on little sister," he urged. "This is payment for all those times that you drove the sentries mad for sneaking past them just to build your ship. Now they finally get to see both their mistress and the ship she's gallivanting around with."

One last push and she was going up on stage, lights flashing around her as she accepted the bottle her father handed her. Taking his place at the podium, she looked at the ecstatic sea of faces and decided that she couldn't wait either.

"I know that you've all been waiting for this so I won't keep you in any more suspense," she announced, and the audience laughed.

Her eyes swept over the anxious and excited faces, all staring in wonder at the ship. She'd never seen so many people looking at her like that before, and she almost wanted to close her eyes and just freeze this moment, capture it in her mind.

Yet something seemed missing, something that didn't quite make this win complete…

"_I wish he could see it…"_

The thought was sudden and fleeting, and she purged it out of her mind, focusing instead on the same girl who was now excitedly bouncing on her father's shoulders.

She felt a slight pang and looked immediately at her own father, whose eyes were shining as he looked at her and her achievement…

She took a deep breath and gripped the neck of the bottle, smiling at the crowd before turning to face the ships bulkhead.

"So without further delay," she raised the bottle. "May she give glory to Malta! I give you the Argo!"

The glass shattered as it hit the metal, spraying champagne all over her flightsuit. Corks popped around her as everyone cheered. She felt strong hands on her waist and looked to find Jake's openly happy face beaming down on her.

"I am so proud of you," he laughed, before leaning down and giving her a kiss. "You did it!"

Jake was about to kiss her again when they heard a cough, and B'Elanna felt a tap on her shoulder.

Aron was standing there with three champagne glasses and a smirk on his face.

"Here you go you two, save your other celebration for later, in _private_."

Jake merely chuckled while B'Elanna stuck her tongue out at him. The two took the champagne and all three looked at each other happily.

Clinking their glasses, they all laughed as they raised the flutes—

* * *

"Cheers!" 

The mini celebration had moved to the bridge, so that Tuvok wouldn't miss out on anything.

Not that he would.

The Vulcan merely raised his eyebrow and drank the offered glass of champagne.

Their party at the shuttlebay had been cut short when Tuvok commed them from the bridge.

"Captain, we've researched the Azaran system and the planet is within range."

So the bridge crew—champagne and all—trudged up to the bridge to see the planet that they would be orbiting for the better part of two weeks.

The first thing they saw as they entered the system were the ships: there must have been hundred of them. They were milling about a space station much like DS9, which was situated right before the planet itself.

They saw cruisers, scouts, run-abouts, all from different races.

"I guess they weren't kidding when they said that this was a multi-cultural spectacular event in the brochure," Tom joked.

Tom's joke fell somewhat flat as Voyager rounded the massive space station and saw the planet.

"Wow." Harry blurted, seeing the blue green world

The planet was huge, and so similar to Earth that it was breath taking.

It was beautiful, the wholeness of it filling their screen.

Tom felt a twinge of pain in his chest as he wished, once again, that B'Elanna was here to see this.

"There she is gentlemen," the Captain said, equally captivated. "Azara."

And Voyager slowed down, achieving orbit, bowing to its magnificence.

* * *

B'Elanna felt a deep rush of sadness as the people milled around her, wanting to see the Argo. 

This day was supposed to be a happy one, and yet she still couldn't seem to shake the feeling that something was missing…or that something was about to happen. _Soon._

Her eyes looked past the sea of well-wishers and onto the hangers, locking on the oldest one, the farthest one at the back.

Later on, her family would gather in a smaller celebration for another christening, for another craft. And though she was proud of the Argo, this small ship was undoubtedly closer to her heart.

"Have you decided what to name her?"

Next to her, Aron was looking at the same place. He and his father had anticipated the day that they would see B'Elanna's ship fly. The Argo had seen several shakedowns before this, but B'Elanna's ship…this was her maiden voyage.

"Yes" she finally answered "I've found a name for her."

"Well, what is it?"

"Later," she smiled impishly. "You'll find out later."

Choosing a name hadn't been easy. This ship had been there for her, pulled her through all her toughest moments, seen through so much with her. It was almost a part of herself.

First lost among strangers, yet valiantly pushing through. Adapting to a family, and to a culture that even now seemed so foreign to her. There were countless of times that she just wanted to give up, and just mold herself to the life that she had made here. But no matter how much she wanted to ignore it, there was still a part of her that yearned for something, someone…that searched for home.

Because of that feeling the name just…came to her.

A band was playing and people were dancing. Firecrackers shot through the sky and B'Elanna watched their fiery splendor.

Her thoughts shifted as she trained her gaze to look past the light show and somehow beyond the lavender skies, knowing that she would find the dark expanse of space.

She hadn't been in space for months.

There was a bright flash as a ship dropped out of warp on their orbit. As she tried to imagine what it was like to once again be with the stars, she wondered if she would find that sense of completion that she longed for out there.


	10. Chapter 10

"Are you sure you're fine on your own?"

Tom rolled his eyes and sighed.

"I'm going to be fine, Harry," he reassured him for what seemed like the upteenth time.

"Are you sure?"

For a moment, Tom wanted to just reach over and throttle his best friend.

The Captain had granted shoreleave to Tom and some crewmembers assigned to the race, allowing them a little rest before the main event.

As a result, he and Harry were walking on one of Azara's famous beaches, exclusive to the race participants. They'd spent the better part of the morning exploring their privilege, which they discovered was more like Earth than they thought.

It was a little bigger than Earth, but everything else—the islands, the atmosphere, their way of government, were similar to that of their home planet. Of course, besides the island they hadn't really seen much of the planet.

Tom had spent most of his time on the station, getting the Delta Flyer through preliminary inspections and subjecting himself to the first of many physical examinations.

Qualifying was hard: the ship, its pilot, and the pit crew needed to be briefed and up to standard. Anything less and they could be rejected outright.

And his competition wasn't even the _highlight _of this event. Another race—the five-man crew regatta—was the most important and thus was the culminating event.

He'd seen some of the ships competing in that event when he flew in the Flyer and was looking forward to meeting some of the pilots. In fact, a gala was being thrown in honor of the pilots and their respective crew later this week, which led to their current dilemma.

The amount of paperwork proved to be just as tedious as physically qualifying. He'd been amazed at the number of forms to be filled out before the gala.

Fortunately for him, his only job was to fly the ship. The rest of the documentation was being handled by Seven of Nine, whose patience was built to withstand one of the few things constant in the universe: red tape.

She was handling last minute details as well as providing the additional documentation needed from first time competitors. The fact that they were from another sector had already turned them into a minor celebrity. People wanted to know more about them and she was becoming more adept at telling the story over and over, even if they all knew it was probably getting on her efficient Borg nerves.

Unfortunately for Harry, who'd been spared from the paper shuffling for the most part, he needed to come down and answer some clarifying questions.

As the Flyer's registered crew engineer, he was the one tasked to provide the technical details. Normally, Tom involved himself in everything that concerned the Flyer, but decided to sit this one out—for obvious reasons.

"Just go, Harry." He was beginning to whine. "You don't want to keep Seven waiting."

Tom's below the belt jab at Harry's infatuation drew the attention away from himself as his best friend once again took the bait.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I am over that!"

"As many times as it will take for you to convince me and the rest of the crew that you really are." he countered. "Are you gonna go or do I have to comm her and have her beam you there herself?"

"Tom!"

"Time's running Harry and you of all people know how she gets."

Harry threw his hands up and sighed.

"I give up" he grumbled, then laughed along with Tom.

But soon the laughter died down, and they were left with the same awkward situation.

Harry didn't want to leave Tom alone.

His friend had been doing fine for months—at least, in front of the crew.

On his own, Harry knew that Tom still had a long way to go. It may not be as bad as before, but he certainly wasn't better. He wasn't sure what, but leaving Tom on an alien planet…

This place made him feel wierd, his senses heightened somewhat. Like he knew something was going to happen, he just didn't know what. And with Tom being the more sensitive, he knew that he'd probably felt it too, long before he did.

"Maybe it's just nerves," he told himself. "This is just adrenaline, anxiety from the race."

_But still…_

He looked at his friend, who was now giving him the sullen look of a 12 year old whose parents would leave him alone on the beach.

"All right, I'm going, I'm going," he acquiesced. "Are you sure-"

Tom sighed and gave Harry a subtle shove, "Have fun with Seven, Harry."

Harry was almost to the wooden boardwalks when his commbadge chirped.

"Seven of Nine to Harry Kim."

_Once again, for Seven's impeccable timing…_

"Kim here," he answered, smiling. "I'm on my way, Seven, no need to-"

"Thank you Ensign, but you need not walk. Prepare for transport."

"What! It's only 15 minutes Seven-"

"No," she answered. "It is imperative that you arrive now."

And before he could protest, he felt the familiar tingle of the transporter, his world vanishing in blue light.

Tom watched, chuckling to himself, as Harry vanished just a few feet away.

Over the past few weeks, Seven had developed a rather proprietary attitude towards Harry, taking the two's precarious non-relationship to another level.

The development had provided new matter to ships betting pools and amused Tom to no end.

It also provided him some added distraction.

Working on the bridge or on the Delta Flyer most of the time had two special advantages: it kept him really busy and visible to the rest of the crew.

They had finally—_finally­_—stopped worrying about him all the time. Some had even started talking to him again. Gone was the time when all anyone could say to him was "I'm sorry."

They had not forgotten but they had moved on, as were the Captain and Chakotay…Tuvok, Neelix…Harry. So should he…

Sometimes he thought he had, or was at least trying to.

But not a day went by that he didn't think of her. How could he? Every corner of the ship reminded him of her; every time he jumped to warp he felt her presence as Voyager advanced in a burst of energy. The Delta Flyer bore marks of her genius and at night, even his quarters were haunted by her memories.

Heck, even this alien planet reminded him of her.

At mid afternoon, the sun was high up on the shore, making the waters shine a crystalline blue. He walked further down the beach, searching for…something.

He didn't bother questioning a lot of things now; he just went ahead and did it. It hasn't gotten him into trouble yet, but it was only a matter of time.

It was a path to self-destruction that he knew all too well, and if he wasn't careful, he'd be walking down the same hellish path he'd been on before Voyager.

"What you do to me, B'Elanna," he thought, stumbling on a stone

He reached down and uncovered the flat disc from the ground, feeling the sun baked heat of it burn his hands.

It was a hot day, but he knew the temperature was just right. Above him, sea birds were crying, and the surf rolled in on the warm sand. Not enough for him to burn but just enough to keep a Klingon toasty.

_Just another perfect day at the beach…_

His thumb smoothed over the fine sand, feeling the rough edges before throwing the stone out to the sea, watching it skip and sink.

"God, you would have loved this, B'Elanna," he murmured. "You would have loved this."

* * *

"B'Elanna?"

At the sound of his voice, B'Elanna looked up to the speaker in front of her, her mind racing to think of an excuse…

"You were a thousand parsecs away," Jake laughed, then reached out to brush a strand of her hair, cupping her cheek. "What were you thinking?"

She sighed and instinctively leaned into the warmth.

"The race," she smiled, trying to dispel the worry from his face. "And you."

"That's nice to hear."

"It was nice to have said it."

Their eyes locked and B'Elanna, in one of her rare moments, drew close to place her lips on his cheek.

Only to have him draw back slightly, smiling regretfully before he retreated to a more acceptable position.

"You know I miss you but this isn't the time to do that."

Her eyes widened slightly as she remembered where she was.

All at once, the crowds and the noise came crashing in, a none-too subtle reminder of just how things were.

A server passed with a tray of wine and she grabbed one, telling herself not to down its contents in one nervous gulp.

It was a week before the races began and she was close to a wreck. Even though she was confident of the Argo and her team, she still felt like there were a million things that needed to be checked or calibrated.

Qualifying for the races had been tough: pilot physicals, ships inspections, recalibrations and on site modifications…the ridiculous amount of paperwork.

Thankfully, someone else had the unfortunate task of filling the dozen million entry forms, freeing her to supervise her crew and spend most of her days in the hangars with the Argo.

She hadn't seen much of her family since they'd landed on Azara a few days ago. Her father and brother were busy with their diplomatic duties, Jake was busy qualifying for his own heat, while she and her pit crew struggled with the standardization procedures that the race officials demanded.

Thank the spirits hey weren't first timers. If they were, there would have been more paperwork, more physicals, and more qualifying tests to go through. As it was, the preliminary paperwork was enough to put her asunder.

Now she was here, relaxing at a private party that one of Jake's relatives was throwing in honor of the races.

"Aunt Mina is here somewhere…" Jake was saying, looking around the room "She was asking me about you…"

B'Elanna sighed and finished her drink. They were _all_ asking about her. For the past two hours she'd done nothing but circulate with Jake, smiling and answering polite (but still nosy) questions.

She wished her brother were here. Natural diplomat that he was, Aron always found a way to deflect any probing questions. He'd promised to be here later in the afternoon, laughing as he left her out to dry with Jake's great Aunt Mina and three gossipy aunts.

"Aunt Ara's sisters," he had informed her. "We are _not_ related."

"Well thank the spirits for that," she grumbled, looking around for the server, hoping for another dash of courage in a glass.

Nightmares, amnesia, multiple riding accidents…and nothing scared her more than being under the social scrutiny of Jake's relatives.

Aron had better come pretty soon. She was already contemplating tipping a vase just to ease the tension.

"Calm yourself, B'Elanna" she breathed.

Aron might be amused by her temper but Jake surely wasn't. He was always so…proper, that she couldn't help but be the same way when around him. It usually wasn't a problem, but it was times like these that things that made her want to flare up.

She finally spotted the server at the other end of the room, right next to the large bay doors. He was balancing a new load of drinks and was heading out, no doubt to serve the dozen other guests who had spilled into the sandy backyard of this beachside villa.

She was set to catch him when a glint of gold caught her eyes from the right side window.

A man was walking down the shore, towards their villa. Stopping once in a while to pick up sticks and stones and throwing them back out into the sea.

He had sandy blonde hair cropped close to his head, a most unusual haircut for the people in this system who preferred growing it out to their napes; unless you were in the military.

"Maybe he's in the service" she thought

He was still quite far, though she noticed by his clothes that he was not from here. The man wore a garishly bright shirt and with his pants rolled at the cuffs.

It was unusual for her to notice such things, but she was particularly curious about the stranger. Like she wanted to know his story.

It was most unusual…or rather, f_amiliar._

She couldn't help feel as if she'd met this man before…

She moved without thought, drawn to this lonely stranger. Wanting somehow to come out and talk to him, comfort him…

_How would you know if he's lonely or needs comfort, you don't even know him…_

She was almost to the door when she felt an arm gently press on her elbow.

"There you are" Jake smiled, distractedly "I'd just found out Aunt Mina but when I turned you were gone. Come on, she wants to talk to you."

"But-"

"That's her."

She followed his gaze to a stately old woman standing near the entrance of the living room, looking both welcoming and scrutinizing at the same time.

"But-"

She felt herself being propelled towards the woman, even as she glanced back towards the window, and at the man, who had now walked ever closer to the house…

* * *

Tom didn't realize how far he'd walked until he saw a house, a party, and a huge alien approaching him.

"Halt!"

He wasted no time in stopping, the loud booming voice literally shocking him to stop.

The man approaching him looked like a huge, muscular elf, if there was such a thing. He was pale and tall, his lavender hair reaching his shoulders. Save for the angular chin and the rippled forehead, he looked very much human. His ears were even round.

He even recognized that all too familiar look of annoyance on his face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know this area was restricted," he explained. "The race officials said we were free to explore the beach."

The man eyed him dubiously. "You are a competitor?"

"Yeah, I'm a pilot," he answered.

"Ah. May I see your documents?"

Tom reached in the pocket of his Hawaiian shirt and pulled out a small card that the organizers had given him and handed it to the guard.

The man took the card and ran it against a PADD. Examining its contents. Moments later he relaxed, thumbing off the PADD and handing him back the card.

"I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience Lt. Paris."

Tom smiled and pocketed the card again "Not a problem. I thought for a minute that I wandered too far."

"No, it's alright. The whole sector of this island has been reserved for the competitors, though not a lot of them have ventured into this area."

"Wonder why" he answered, then looked at the villa "That's quite a party you have over there."

Tom's trained eyes spotted several other guards watching him from the villa. They didn't appear to have weapons but he was sure that they had them.

The man turned to the other guards and gave a slight nod, sending them back to their duties again.

"It is a celebration of Malta's return to the races. It has been quite awhile since they joined, this is their first time back."

It was a medium sized party, not unlike the ones they used to have in Neelix' resort, only it seemed more formal and it was mid-afternoon instead of dusk. There were people from different races milling around in drinks with their own little umbrellas, laughing and dancing to music.

"Back from where I come from, we used to call this a luau. Only the people here are better dressed and there are less banging drums."

The man gave a subtle snort. "The hostess is Malta's ambassador to Azara, she does not favor…drums. This is in honor of her nephew and the new consort. Perhaps you've met them."

Tom shook his head. "I doubt it. I've been tied up with the qualifications and the paperwork. This is the first break I've had since we got here. I'm beginning to think that the paperwork itself is part of the qualifying procedure."

They both laughed at that.

"There is a reason why they give such special privileges to the pilots and its crews."

Tom knew he should get going, but this was the first person he'd talked to all week who wasn't from Voyager and didn't want to talk about the races.

Besides, there was something about the house that made him want to stay.

"The bay has a very good restaurant that offers some of Azaras delicacies. Most pilots and engineers go there, the food is free for competitors."

"Thanks."

"Why don't you bring a lady friend, the view is quite nice in the evenings."

A dark cloud seemed to have settled in the conversation, making the sentry struggle with the subtle change.

"Uh, my friend…I mean, my mate was just lost in a mission a year ago."

"I'm sorry."

"Please, no. You were just trying to be hospitable. And you're right; if she were here I would take her to the restaurant. She would have loved this place."

He paused, taking in his surroundings.

"She loved the beach. We had simulators back on our ship that can recreate places, but nothing beats the real thing. It's been awhile since we've even touched real sand, much less seen real sun or surf. This would have been a real vacation for us."

The guard looked ready to apologize again when he saw something at the side of the house.

It was…no, it couldn't be…

* * *

B'Elanna was standing right at the balcony, looking out into the deserted beach.

"Damn," she muttered. "He's gone."

She'd feigned interest while talking to Jakob's great aunt Mina—of no direct relation to them, Aron would have been quick to point out.

She'd talked to enough relatives for the day. A great part of her was even _thankful_ that she didn't remember anything for her past life, something, which drastically limited the points in conversation.

Instead, all topics were focused on her future: how did she find Malta, what were her plans, how was Aron treating her, or more importantly: how was Jakobian treating her? How did she find the family?

She couldn't help but notice that all discussions seemed to be leading to one direction: something which she wasn't quite comfortable with yet.

"Great Aunt Mina" was particularly open, asking her all sorts of personal questions.

She would have been offended if her mind had wholly into it. She'd spent most of the half hour nodding, smiling, and giving acceptably short answers, wishing that the old lady would just go to bed or something so that she could go and see if the man was still out there.

She didn't know why she was so curious. Knowing that he had access to this area meant that he was a competitor. Perhaps that was it: she hadn't talked to anyone but her pit crew for the past week and she was itching to talk to someone about something not related to the race. Though this party wasn't helping her any…

_Maybe he went that way…_

She leaned on the railing, trying to catch a look at the side of the house—

"B'Elanna!"

She immediately pulled herself up, rolling her eyes as she headed inside for more questions.

* * *

"Tunneling?"

"That's when the bike passes through a pipe in the track. It can do a complete 360 turn. Or—depending on the riders skills-maintain a stable 180 ledge."

Tom gave the handlebars of the red "hoverbike" an experimental squeeze, pretending to ride the powerful machine through some of the tracks that the sentry was describing.

"It's a dangerous sport; a lot of people get thrown get into collisions. Some circuits are on naturally built tracks, so you can never really predict the terrain. It's not uncommon for a rider to lose control."

"This seems a bit too heavy for a race bike."

"It has to be, the rider's small."

Tom's eyebrows rose. "Small?"

"I think compact may be the right word," he corrected himself. "Riders are typically male, this one's been modified to fit a female. It needs the extra weight to prevent her from flipping over when other riders graze her."

"Looks like she did a pretty good job."

"She's a pretty good engineer."

Asher, the guard remembered that the young man's mate had been an engineer and struggled to come up with a way to ease the situation. Thankfully, he didn't seem as bothered as the first time.

"My…mate, before she…_was lost.._ had an interest in race bikes. It's almost like hover bikes, except its ancient earth technology: it has wheels" he explained "Race bikes went out of fashion when hovercars came in, so only the bike collector's ride. All our motorcycles have wheels though; I'd love to try this one."

"There aren't a lot of hoverbike enthusiasts on Azarra, so you'd have to go farther out to rent one. But this bikes small enough for a beginner like you. If you'd like, I could ask my employer if she'd give you a first lesson."

Tom was surprised, "She'd do that?"

He laughed. "She will appreciate your enthusiasm. She comes from a family of diplomats who are not really all that athletic. She welcomes anyone who is interested in the sport."

"Cool."

Asher stopped and gave him an incredulous look.

"You know, she always says that!"

"Cool?"

"Yes," he answered. "When she finds something impressive or amusing…"

* * *

"Where is Aron," she mentally fumed. "If this goes any longer I will start chewing my hand off" 

Now she was cornered by Inspector Kala, who was—for a change-male and _not_ a relative, but still managed to maintain this afternoon's sufferable theme: how was she doing with the preparations for the race and how did she like working with Jakobian?

Even Jake had gotten tired of the routine and wandered off, leaving her with a million and one—

A gentle trilling in her pocket broke B'Elanna's silent tirade. With a smile, she excused herself and went to answer her call in private.

The grin that she had been sporting dropped from her face as soon as she entered the bathroom.

"How are you doing?"

"Aron!" she yelled. "Where are you? You said you were going to come here and rescue me!"

"I got held up, the negotiations took longer than I thought," he answered. "So, how are the in-laws?"

"That's not funny."

"I wasn't trying to be."

"Just get yourself here, Aron," she seethed "I'm tired, I'm cranky, this is the first break I've gotten all week-"

"Alright, alright, stop it before you break something," he said. "Father wants you here to answer some questions."

"Ugh, no more questions!"

"You can always stay," he joked. "I'll tell father you're having such a great time…"

"What time do I need to be there?" she sighed.

"Around…now. We're at the Ander Complex, I'll wait for you at the lobby."

"Give me around fifteen to ride there and five to get away."

"Ok. See you in fifteen."

The line went dead before she could even complain. She considered calling just to yell at him but decided against it. At least he'd given her an excuse. She knew for a fact that she didn't need to be there.

She palmed her communicator, getting ready to ask Asher to prepare her bike for she was—thank God—leaving.

"B'Elanna to Asher…"

* * *

"Are you sure this is fine?"

Tom and Asher were making their way to the house. He'd already met some of the guests and they were delighted to meet another pilot, especially one not from their system.

"Yes. Besides, she hates these things" he answered, making a show of looking at a chronometer strapped to his wrist "In fact, I'm pretty sure that she's just about ready to throw something—she's been here for the better part of the day. I'm sure Jakobians family is making her crazy."

"You're really close huh?"

"I've been her bodyguard for ten months, she isn't an easy watch. It helps to know her moods."

"If you say so," he answered. "Though before we start, do you think you can show me the bathroom?"

"Of course."

They were about to enter the house when a tell tale chirp sounded in the air.

"Excuse me, Asher," Tom said, tapping his badge. "Paris here."

"Tom where are you? Why is it so noisy?"

"I'm at a party Harry" he answered "I'm about to meet some new people."

"That's great buddy but listen, you have to come here."

"Now?"

"Yes, now!" Harry barked then paused, almost as if he was pacing himself.

Harry hardly ever raised his voice, and he could hear Seven talking softly in the background.

"Are you okay, Harry?"

"Yes, just…you have to come here Tom. There's something you have to see."

This time, Tom's brow was furrowed with concern. "Where are you?"

"We're at the shipyard. You don't need to walk, we've already asked Voyager for a transport."

"Okay, just give me a second" he answered, not liking the urgent tone in Harry's voice, then turned to Asher.

"I'm sorry Asher, but it seems like I'm going to have to meet your brilliant boss some other time."

"No worries. I'll tell her you asked about her bike, she'll be happy to hear that someone appreciates her work."

"Yeah, you do that," he said, shaking his hand. "See you at the races."

With that, he stepped back just in time for his commbadge to give another chirp.

"Voyager to Paris, you ready lieutenant?"

"Go ahead Mike," he smiled, waving goodbye. "Energize."

Asher watched as the young pilot was engulfed by a brilliant blue light, shimmering for a few seconds before winking out into space.

_Nice guy_, he thought, moving to walk back to his post when his own communicator sounded.

"B'Elanna to Asher."

"Go ahead, M'lady," he answered.

"My rescue has come. Aron wants me to drop by the Complex to meet with him and father. Can you warm up my bike while I say goodbye?"

"Sure thing, ma'am." He smiled.

"Great," she said. "I'll be out in a few minutes."

A few minutes, Asher thought, walking over to the shiny red bike. Knowing her, she'd be out in a few _seconds. _It was too bad the Lieutenant Paris couldn't stay. Something told him that the two of them would have gotten along.


	11. Chapter 11

Harry was more than annoyed when he rematerialized in the docking yards.

Seven was just a few feet away, standing next to a ship quietly punching data into her tricorder. The soft whine of the transporter alerted her to his arrival, and she immediately looked up.

"I could have just walked here, you know."

"It was necessary for you to be here as soon as possible."

"Of course," he answered dourly. "By the way, what's this about?"

Seven had been scanning an alien transport, roughly the size of the Delta Flyer. It gleamed a bright sea blue under the afternoon sun, the rays reflecting nicely on its extended wings.

"Now that's what I call a ship," he said drolly. "Taking an interest in the competition?"

"It is a personal transport. The race official said that it will not be competing in any of the events, it is merely docked here. He went back to call his supervisor before I could question him further."

Harry blinked at the quick change.

"Question him?" Harry asked, confused What's this all about, Seven?"

Seven hesitated before going further, which worried Harry. Seven never hesitated. Not for anything.

"At the races engineering center I was informed that there had been a change in docking spaces. The Delta Flyer had been moved to the East Side Yards, this side. I asked if they could provide me the new location, but the clerk handling my documents was already busy attending to another participant."

"So?"

"I decided to come here and look for the Delta Flyer myself."

Harry looked around the airfield, taking stock of hundreds of ships, in different shapes and sizes. It would have taken Seven all morning and the better part of the afternoon looking for the Flyer.

"As you can see, it would have been inefficient for me to look for it. So I decided to scan for the Delta Flyers specification, as well as its warp signature."

"And?"

Seven handed him the tricorder, which he dutifully read. It listed a Starfleet flight and warp signature, the Delta Flyers specifications, weapons array…the weapons array…

His eyes widened as he ran down the suddenly extended list.

"Seven, what the hell is this?"

The first thing that registered in Tom's mind was Harry and Seven arguing, a sight that had grown rather common as of late.

"Now, now children. What did I tell you about fighting?"

The two didn't even look up.

"This is a bad idea." Seven was saying.

"What else can we do?" Harry snapped back. "Stand here and analyze more data? The two of us have done what we can and it's time we brought in someone else." "We should at least call Voyager"

"I think we should verify facts."

"And you think Tom Paris is the proper authority for that?" she hissed.

Tom would have been insulted if the situation hadn't distressed him. It was the first time that Seven had referred to him without his rank, much less his full name. It was also the first time he saw two of his friends so angry. They looked almost ready to hit each other.

He was almost afraid to speak up, thinking that any sort of movement or interruption at this point would cause the volatile pair to explode.

"I don't care," Harry snapped. "It's his ship, he deserves to know."

"Deserve to know what?" he asked immediately, "Guys?"

The seemed locked in a staring match until Harry broke off to explain.

"The Flyer was assigned a new parking space," Harry told him. "We weren't informed, but apparently it was tractored to this side of the docks this morning. Seven couldn't wait for her escort so she decided to look for it herself. She ended up here."

As if on cue, they looked up at the vehicle in front of them.

It was late afternoon, Harry and Seven had been arguing for close to two hours. It was an activity foreign to their relationship so neither one of them knew how to concede. That they had wildly opposing opinions only exacerbated their current dilemma.

Tom was staring at the transport, feeling like he was looking at a contained ocean. The metal was made of a bright blue reflector panel and caught the lazy rays of the Azarran sun. It was sleek, with the nacelles tucked to its sides but its wings still admirably extended.

He instantly felt a bit jealous.

"Now that's what I call a ship."

Harry tossed him the tricorder, pinning Seven with a stare when she moved to stop him.

"Retractable nacelles, multiphasic shielding, borg weaponry…"

Tom's blood turned cold as he read on the specifications.

"I don't understand; we just checked on her this morning. It couldn't have been…maybe it's some sort of cloak…"

"This isn't the Delta Flyer Tom, it's the Maltan Transport Vessel Ghetti IV."

Only one thing came into mind. "B'Elanna."

"I thought the same thing," Harry answered. "Whoever built this ship must know where she is."

"No, no," he said, his eyes wild. "There are too many coincidences, they couldn't have built something like this through instruction, she…she's here Harry."

Harry was instantly alarmed.

"Tom…"

"No!" Tom insisted. "This is B'Elanna's work, I know it, this is her ship."

Tom was beside himself, rounding the ship in quick paces and running every scan he could using just a tricorder. Every once in a while, he would rub his hands on the ship, as if the metal held some sort of indication of B'Elanna's presence.

"DNA's degraded, can't do a scan, but I can tell that she's here," Tom was mumbling to himself. "I can sense her, I can sense her."

The two other crew members watched as the pilot tried to make sense of the information in his hands. He seemed so agitated that Harry doubted if Tom would be able to accomplish anything.

Harry was surprised to see the flash of emotion in Seven's eyes as she observed the incoherent lieutenant. "I warned you not to call Lt. Paris her.e"

"It's expected that he be overwhelmed."

"He is _irrational,_" she bit back."We should have told the Captain."

"I thought it was better to tell Tom first before we told anyone else."

"He has made even more ludicrous conclusions," she argued. "An alien ship could have scanned the Delta Flyer and copied its systems. This _ship_ has an arsenal of weapons rivaling that of a standard fighter; we should be regarding this as a security breach and not some futile reunion!"

Her eyes were blue chips of anger. Harry ran his hands on his hair, frustrated.

When he first saw the scan, his first thought had been of B'Elanna.

An alien ship, a transport, heavily armed, but with the Delta Flyers specifications; a similar Starfleet signature… but what did him in was the Borg technology present on the ship.

Without Seven, knowledge of those systems were hard to replicate. Only B'Elanna, who helped pioneer the incorporation of its technology, had intimate knowledge of the Flyer's systems.

Seven, ever the logical one, sought the more feasible explanation.

Technological piracy.

Imitation may be the best form of flattery, but not when you had a race to win and the replica was armed to the teeth with a vast array of weapons: Borg and then some.

They'd scanned the ship argued long and hard over the best course of action.

"I'm calling Tom."

"That would be unwise."

"Watch me," he had warned

Thus the conclusion of his supposedly unwise decision was falling apart in front of him.

And just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, a portly race official was now approaching them, shouting for them to step away. Two armed guards were flanking him, as well as a dour looking man with a long beard, carrying a rather huge PADD.

"I gather that this was your escort?"

Seven ignored his remark and glared.

"Perhaps it is wise to tell someone now."

Harry sighed, taking one last look at Tom before tapping his commbadge.

"Kim to Captain Janeway. I think we need you here."

There was a brief pause before the Captains worried tone came on the line.

"Ensign?"

"Captain, there've been some…complications."

"Stop!"

Harry and Seven looked calmly at the approaching party, presenting a united front as Tom continued to frantically prod the ship.

"This ship is restricted, the shorter, rounder official told them.

"Funny, I didn't see a sign," Harry answered.

"Then let this serve as your warning," the taller official with the beard said, motioning for the two guards to advance.

"I believe we have the right to ask questions," Seven interjected. "This vessel possesses the same specifications as our own Delta Flyer."

"Some ships share the same fundamentals."

"We do not share Borg technology," she insisted, her implant rising up a notch "I have submitted my claims to this official. I gather that he has brought you with him to answer my questions."

The taller official glared. "This is a private transport."

"That doesn't mean you can't answer any of our questions." Harry demanded.

"This vessel is classified."

"Yet your rules present us with a right to challenge," Seven said, waving a PADD "I have read the manuals. It states that I can ask you about any vessel docked on the race proper providing I had good reason."

"Not this ship. It is under diplomatic immunity."

"That's an excuse," charged Harry.

"No! It is the truth!" the shorter one cut in. "You don't understand, this is one of the flag bearers of the diplomatic fleet. See that symbol over there?"

They looked up to see him pointing at a symbol much like a coat of arms.

"That is the Maltan Royal Seal."

"Which means…"

"It means," the taller official responded with a forced sigh. "That you are accusing the Prime Minister of Malta of technological theft."

* * *

_What now?_

That was Kathryn Janeway's last thought as she beamed down, smiling as she waved goodbye to her first officer.

It seemed like every time Harry and Tom were left on shoreleave, something "complicated" happened.

Yet the situation that greeted her seemed far more serious than any of those two's usual shenanigans.

Two guards with what looked like regulation compression rifles hovered nearby Harry and Seven, who were arguing with what she'd come to know as officials from the race.

The two officials looked none too happy, while her crew were agitatedly making a point. This was the most expressive that she'd seen the both of them: Harry was making huge gestures with his hands while Seven seemed to openly glare, her voice coming in higher decibels.

And Tom…

She took a step forward and found her Chief Helmsman inspecting a ship, a very distressed look on his face.

"Gentlemen, Seven," she addressed the group.

Everyone, save for Tom, seemed to look up and take notice of her.

"Care to tell me what this is about, Ensign?"

But it was Seven who made the introductions as well as supplied her with the explanation, her voice curt and her words to biting.

When she finished, Kathryn found herself just as upset as her crew and just as bothered as the two Azarrans who were now trying to make their sides heard.

"To accuse a Royal of such things is a serious crime" the taller official, Benn, was telling her "We also happen to know that the vessel was created months before you even registered. It was a classified project. The Prime Minister himself was not even allowed to see it until it had been completed, and its creator was his daughter."

Tom, who had been doing something near the belly of the ship, crawled out and joined them when he heard this precious bit of information.

"His daughter?" he asked.

"The Lady V'On Ghetti," Benn answered. "A Provisional Crown. Her induction to the Lower Council is already planned for the next season."

But Tom didn't seem to hear any of it. What mattered to him was that a woman had invented this ship and that seemed closer to the truth. Or his truth, at least.

"That's her Captain, I swear it is!" he exclaimed.

"Relax Lieutenant. As Seven said the most probably cause is technological theft. We still have no reason to believe that this could be her work."

Yet Kathryn had her doubts, and Tom sensed that. She was thinking the same thing he was, but chose to follow the more logical explanation that Seven presented.

"Captain, you have to believe me," he begged.

"A lot of women have designed ships," Seven was saying. "That does not prove anything."

"Then I'll look for more proof!" he announced, stomping back to the ship

Tom was clearly not himself, and Seven followed the distraught Lieutenant, fearing that he'd hurt himself. That left Harry and the Captain to deal with the two agitated race officials.

"All things considered, none of what you're saying still explains why an alien vessel has nearly the same specifications as my ship."

Benn was tight-lipped, but Assa, the shorter one, decided to explain.

"This is Malta's first entry to the races after a long absence. They have been recovering from a world war and for the past years have been too busy in reconstruction that they had no time to engage in such activities. They are a hospitable people, but after years of hardships they are…sensitive to anything that might end that respite."

"I understand," she answered. "But is it still possible for us to arrange a meeting with the ships designer? We won't accuse her of anything. We just need to know how she came across some of her designs."

The two officials looked at each other as they thought it out.

As Seven had pointed out, they had the right to question the origins of this vessel. They had sufficient cause to issue a challenge that could delay the race and possibly cause a scandal.

As visitors to the system, they were granted an honorary status. But to put them in conference with the Maltan's with these kinds of allegations…it was a matter of political finesse.

Taking advantage of their hesitancy, Kathryn decided to play her trump card.

"Please gentlemen, this is important to us," she implored. "A year ago a member of my crew was abducted in a planet some systems away from here. She is one of a select group of people who knows how our ships are designed." She had their attention now. So Kathryn threw logic to the wind and continued. "I believe that Ensign Kim may be correct. It may be possible that whoever made this ship has encountered my missing lieutenant and could tell us where to find her."

"Your lieutenant has been missing for a year, that's a very long time," Benn told her "There is a very high possibility that she could be dead."

"But there is an even higher possibility that she could be alive," Seven blurted.

All six heads turned to look up on her perch. Seven was standing high up the ships tail, examining something.

"Have you found anything?" Tom called, climbing up after her.

"Unless you can explain this, we have every reason to believe that Lieutenant Paris may be right."

It was luck that she even saw it.

In those few seconds where the sun was making its afternoon turn, beginning its decent to end the day, it shone its bright light on the top right wing, bringing a shine to something that would have been missed had it not been for Seven's Borg enhanced vision.

A mark deliberately hidden by painting the same color as the ship, so easily overlooked unless you knew how to look—or had the same modified vision as Seven.

"It is the Maker's Mark," Assa told them.

The four of them were convened on an anti-grav platform, while Tom and Seven stood, looking at the blank space that Seven indicated.

"I can't see anything," Tom seethed, staring at the smooth surface with his fists clenched in frustration.

"It is here," Seven insisted. "Why is it hidden?"

"Of course, it is hidden." Assa explained "It is customary for a ships designer or chief engineer to place a mark to distinguish his craftsmanship, but not to brag about it. It is a signature to be read by other craftsmen like them. In most cases it can be a symbol, or a word, perhaps a saying. Here."

The portly official produced a small object that looked a lot like a flashlight.

"You can see it through this."

There was no mistaking it. As soon as the black light hit the spot Seven had indicated the four people from Voyager had reacted.

The three-winged spiral and the familiar symbols underneath were proof enough for them.

"It's the seal of the Klingon Empire," Harry read. "And what's this…"

Harry struggled to read the Klingon words underneath, "Seven, can you get your tricorder to read this?"

But Captain Janeway didn't need a tricorder to read the word. It was a word that she had learned read and say a multitude of Federation languages:

**_Voyager_**.

"It's her," Captain Janeway said.They stepped off the anti-grav panel, leaving Harry and Seven to examine the rest of the hull, looking for more markings.

Tom kept his anxiety in check, letting the Captain make the necessary threats.

"You say your ship has traveled across this Quadrant, maybe she has heard of it?" Benn told her. "Around the time that she acquired the specifications-"

"Oh stop it," she hissed. "Why are you eluding this? Are you hiding something?"

"We are not hiding anything," Assa was quick to placate her.

The Captain was in full command mode, back straight, chin up, and that patented glare set to kill.

"The Prime Minister is very protective of his daughter; we don't know how he will react to such accusations. If you could wait awhile, we could put this through the necessary channels-"

"I could have my whole crew bombard your agency with enough complaints to shut this race down. Arrange a meeting _now_."

"It is not that easy."

"Then make it easy," she threatened. "Or else I will accuse the Prime Minister of abduction."

"That won't be necessary."

That familiar voice—long since heard but not forgotten—rang clear across the field.

All parties turned towards the source, currently walking down towards her ship, guards in tow.

"I heard that someone was making _persistent_ inquiries about my ship. I thought I would answer these…questions myself."

The Voyager crew thought that they were looking at an apparition.

Even if she did look different...

Her hair was longer, the dark waves gathered up in a ponytail. She was wearing a teal colored flight suit decorated with a few decals, the Maltan royal seal prominent on her left breast. But what made the change was her face: it seemed clear, _relaxed._

"I would have come down sooner, but there was some business that I had to attend to with my father at the Ander Complex."

The two race officials seemed to recover first, surprised that such an important guest would give such a personal response. This was not standard protocol for most Maltans, but she was after all an off-worlder, clearly of a different race even from their Voyager guests.

Nonetheless, they were quick to apologize for the inconvenience.

"I'm sorry M'lady, it wasn't necessary for you to come down here yourself-"

"It's my ship," she snapped. "Of course I would come down her myself!"

Now that was familiar.

"My brother will be here shortly, in the mean time, I am here, and they can deal with me."

Her eyes narrowed to reveal her point, and the two merely nodded their heads. This seemed to satisfy her, turning away from them to look at the visitors, who were watching her with stunned expressions.

They seemed to waiting for her to do something.

The oldest one, a woman wearing a uniform, looked like she was about to laugh or cry. Behind her, a statuesque woman and a dark haired young man were watching her with much expectation. It appeared like they wanted to say something but didn't know how.

And last was the tall young man with golden hair who stared at her with such open affection that it scared her.

But it was his eyes, so blue, that seemed to draw her in. They looked at her with such haunting intensity that it felt as if he could see right through her, as if he really knew her…

She felt herself wanting to reach out to this stranger, even as her mind rationalized a million times on why she should say no.

But then he said her name…

The world seemed to stop as wave upon wave of emotions washed up on Tom with an intensity he couldn't describe.

His legs couldn't move and his eyes…his eyes reached out to her, wanting to grab her, hug her, crush her in his arms. It seemed like his whole body and soul, everything that was Tom Paris, was reacting to the mere sight of her. And after being so long deprived they just didn't know what to do.

At last, something seemed to click inside Tom's head and everything started spinning as his voice choked up one word.

"B'Elanna"

He saw her eyes flash with recognition, a reaction that flooded Tom back with reason. So he did the first thing his rational mind could do.

He took a deep breath, his leg finding its strength set out to move.

To meet her, come to her. Be with her, hold her. To Seek and grab onto that reassurance that she was here, returned to him after so many months of searching. Of heartache. Of thinking that he would have to spend the rest of his life alone and haunted by a dream.

"B'Elanna!"

A certain dimness seemed to pass over her gaze, removing that calming look that connected them, replaced by fear and slowly growing panic.

"B'Elanna?"

Strong arms grabbed onto his shoulders, stopping him. He looked up and into the face of Asher, stoically shaking his head, as if warning him to stop or suffer unknown consequences.

But he could no more stop his advancement than he could tell himself to stop breathing.

"Asher?" he pleaded, "Please let me go to her, Asher, please."

"I'm sorry Lt. Paris, but you need to stand down," he explained calmly. "If you do not, you might be accused of assaulting the provisional crown and the last thing you want to happen is for you to get arrested."

He looked past the guards restraining him and onto B'Elanna, shocked and confused with the situation…just like he was.

"Please Tom, let her go," Asher told him. "For now."

With that, Tom immediately lessened his struggles but did not stop his movements. After being denied for so long, he just simply couldn't understand why she was acting this way.

What was she doing? Why was she just standing there?

A senior official was now standing next to her apologizing for the commotion. Although distressed, he could see how she collected herself, straightening her back and taking control of the situation.

She looked…put-together. Calm. Negotiable.

What had happened to her?

"Do you recognize this young man, M'lady?"

The question momentarily snapped her inner layer of control, and Tom could sense the desperation coming from even as everyone else waited on her calm reserve.

This was his B'Elanna, no doubt. She was there, he knew it. Whatever it was that happened, he hadn't lost her. Not by a long shot.

Their eyes met and locked, and Tom braced himself as she assessed him to give her answer.

"M'lady?" the official prompted. "Do you now him?"

_B'Elanna! It's me!_

"No."


	12. Chapter 12

After 12 months of being light years apart, the only thing that now kept Tom from B'Elanna was a reinforced piece of plastic.

But as he watched her through the windows of the doctor's office, meditating on this afternoon's events, he felt even more separated from her than before.

For many nights he'd dreamed of this day. Finding her and rescuing her. Taking her back and loving her. Other nights it was a nightmare: learning she was dead, bringing her home in nothing but a hollowed out torpedo casing. It was one or the other, with the past year providing him with plenty of variations.

But never in his wildest imaginings had he expected _this_ to happen.

It was a devastating realization.

"Are you alright Tom?"

The Captain's reassuring voice broke through his daze, bringing him into the present.

He looked around the room, at the doctor, the captain, and at the old Maltan physician.

They all seemed worried about him, particularly the captain. Quite a change from her disappointed expression when he'd raised a tirade outside of sickbay, yelling at anyone and everyone for keeping him from seeing her.

He'd harassed Sam Wildman, who assisted the doctor in his place, for information. He'd badgered Harry, still confused, to open the sickbay doors from his station on the bridge. And he'd begged Chakotay, pleading that he reason with the Captain, giving a million rationalizations on why he should see her.

But he wasn't rational, he couldn't see her, and it took three large Maltan sentries who'd beamed on onboard—along with a now stern Asher-to get him to back off.

Ants had crawled in his brain for the past five hours until the Captain had commed him and asked him to come down to sickbay.

And now the Captain was asking him if he was _alright_.

"Do you need anything Lieutenant.?" the doctor had asked him, genuinely worried.

The question almost made him snap.

"A long explanation would be a great help," he answered.

The Captain didn't look very happy with his attitude, but who could blame him. The situation had deteriorated from bad to worse, and it was only now that things were picking up for them.

Tom's cockiness was a defense mechanism, she knew that, but she still braced herself for how the pilot would react to what the doctor was about to tell him.

It was 2300, she'd lived with this information for most of the day and she still couldn't wrap her mind around it.

After leaving Tuvok and a few crewmen as a sign of trust so B'Elanna could come aboard, she had settled down to wait for the results of the Doctor's and Koran's medical scans.

The news left her numb with pain and anger. There was no telling what it would do to Tom.

"In brief, Lt. Torres is suffering from Amnesia," the doctor told him.

"Tell me something I don't know," he shot back.

The doctor ignored his insolence.

"This is the result of B'Elanna's scans," he answered, handing him a PADD." I told Koran that you have enough medical knowledge to understand her injuries and their…effects."

The doctor's voice grew fainter as he scrolled down the list. Tom's chest seemed to constrict as he read line upon line, scanning B'Elanna's medical history for the past 12 months, starting from the beginning.

"God, B'Elanna." No tears came out, but he seemed to be clutching the PADD tighter than usual.

"There was nothing in our databases about her physiology," Koran was telling him. "She was dying…as a physician I had no choice."

Tom merely nodded. There was no use getting angry now. In fact, he was beyond angry. At this stage, all he could do was to try and feel hope, though nothing from what he was reading seemed hopeful.

Brain surgery was never easy. Even with their full database, the first thing the doctor had told him in his neurology class was that brain surgery was never a sure thing. It was a complicated organ, and even by the 24th century physicians still hadn't solved all of its mysteries.

Like why B'Elanna couldn't remember.

"What," he asked, "are her chances of recovery?"

"Physically she's fine," the doctor answered. "She's fit, she's healthy, only her memory seems affected."

Of course.

How hard was it to crush a Klingon skull? Seven times the average human bone density. They used to joke that it was made of steel.

Yet here was proof that bone was just bone.

Even now, he could still see the small fissures from where regenerated bone had mended the shattered pieces. It was patched in three places. He could only imagine what kind of trauma she had sustained when it was still new.

On second thought, he didn't want to imagine.

Didn't want to know how she managed to have a collapsed lung, fractured bones, broken ribs…bruises, contusions, and lacerations on several parts of her body.

Though the report had said that she was well nourished before all the trauma happened. Female slaves fetched a high price; any sign of ill health diminished their value. Had she been weak when the assault happened, she might not have survived.

"Well thank God for small mercies," he thought bitterly.

Down, down, down. Tom scrolled through the endless information, the useless information; because in the end, it all boiled down to one thing.

"Is there a chance that she'll recover her memory?"

Silence seemed to be his only answer. The Captain tried not to flinch while Koran's eyes clouded despite his calm composure. Even the doctor could not get the grimace out of his face.

"We're not entirely sure. Like I've told you in your neurology class-"

"I think I skipped those chapters, Doc. B'Elanna and I had a date," he cut in. "So if you don't mind, I'd like one of your ballpark figures."

The doctor sighed, figuring out the best way to give his explanation.

"Mr. Paris…Tom…judging from her recent medical history and the part of the brain that was injured…I can only deduce a thirty percent chance that she'll recover her memory."

The world seemed to fade in a flash of white and his bones turned to jelly, the breath literally knocked out of him.

"But like I said, we can never be too sure," The doctor was quick to follow. "Klingon's have the best regenerative traits. I know that thirty percent doesn't seem very significant, but who knows? Not a lot of research has been done on the redundancies of the Klingon nervous system, and with the lieutenant's luck, maybe thirty percent is enough of a fighting chance."

The doctor seemed so earnest that Tom felt like laughing…at him, at his fate, at B'Elanna's fate…heck, at everyone's fate for being stuck here in the great Delta Quadrant.

"Tom." The captain placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "At least she's healthy, and we've found her."

That idea seemed even more ridiculous.

"Found her? You think we've _found_ her?" he cried. "She won't even look at us Captain. The only thing familiar about her is her name. Her voice, her face…she looks different, she even sounds different…"

There was a helpless catch in his throat when he recalled everything that had happened.

"Twelve whole months of hoping and when I do find her, she doesn't even know me"

Neither the doctor nor the captain could offer any comfort. Instead they watched B'Elanna from across the room, huddled close to her brother, her only family in what she now considered a ship full of strangers.

They didn't know what to say, which was why Koran chose to speak up.

"Perhaps it is not a question of wanting to remember Mr. Paris, as opposed to facing the fears that her memories may bring."

* * *

They'd been expecting him, but everyone on Voyager still seemed surprised as he materialized on the transporter.

Besides the captain and the crewman manning the controls, there were five others from security present in the room and the away party that his father had requested to be onboard, along with a dark man with pointed ears and a neutral expression on his face.

Aron didn't like him, but put on a diplomatic smile as he shook the Captain's hand and immediately inquired about B'Elanna.

He didn't rush, he knew B'Elanna was safe; these were her people after all. But "were" was the operative word. She'd often been wary of strangers, and from the way she had sounded on the communiqué, this is what these people were.

Outside, crewman lined the wall, anxious to see the man B'Elanna called 'brother'.

The curiosity was expected, though the way the crew looked at him made him squeamish.

He already knew that he looked too different to even be considered as B'Elanna's natural brother. Tall, lean, fair, with his light grey eyes and chin length red hair-the ripples on his forehead were probably their only closest features.

It was night and day, he and B'Elanna. But none of these people would ever understand what a connection he had with his sister.

She even knew it was him as soon as the doors opened.

He and his father were in the middle of a treaty when they were called. Aman couldn't get away, but he immediately sent his son as soon as they could manage.

No doubt there were a few people that would be insulted for his brash manners, but they did good in not showing the direness of the situation.

His daughter needed their help on another international matter, please forgive his son for the early departure. No need to worry, he had no doubt that things would eventually be resolved.

Though for how long?

B'Elanna's composure had broken down as soon as he came in. She didn't cry, but panic was evident in her eyes as she struggled to give some sort of explanation.

Not that she could offer any.

All she could manage were strings of incoherent words, a retelling of this afternoon's event laced with her newfound paranoia.

He spent the next few hours waiting for Koran and the Voyager doctor—a rather interesting AI—to finish their tests. B'Elanna wanted him in the room at all times, right where she could see him.

And when they were done, she'd sat down with him on the spare biobed, where he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side for a hug. Drained, B'Elanna tucked her head in the crook of his neck, with Aron holding tightly to one of her hands.

This was how they'd dealt with B'Elanna's initial nightmares.

It was on the ship traveling back to Malta, after he'd rescued her from the Dalian traders, that B'Elanna encountered the first bump in her recovery.

Her memories.

There were nights that they'd have to strap her to the bed, afraid that her violent movements would hurt her. She screamed and yelled, calling out to someone, but never saying a name; never revealing anything, not wanting _them _to know who he is, even as she begged them not to hurt him, to stop hurting her.

The damage had been extensive, and for a while, they thought that it would take a long time for her psyche to recover.

But in the three weeks that it took for him to come home, he'd learned how to sit with her to calm her fears…while she in turn learned how to forget the bad memories.

The nightmares were still there, but the violence had abated. And by the time they got home, B'Elanna had successfully buried a part of her past and vowed to only look at the future.

B'Elanna stirred and he looked down to see a flicker of light in her absent gaze. She seemed to hesitate before speaking, weighing her words.

"Aron…"

"Yes?" He waited.

"I don't think I can do this…"

His forehead crinkled as he stared at her. "Do what?"

"Remember."

* * *

"Her head injury may be the primary culprit to her memory loss, but a lot of things happened before the…assault," Koran carefully explained.

"She remembers some things. Aron originally encouraged her to make a journal for anything that she felt was significant to her past. She said she'd try, but she wasn't exactly cooperative."

The doctor snorted at that.

"Occasionally, she'd show Aron or me an entry. They all seem to be little things: a sound, a color, a word, a certain smell. But without a way to verify things, we couldn't really confirm if she was right. She once told us that she was always cold, but she couldn't be too sure if she'd lived a warmer climate or if she just hated the cold. This frustrated her and she eventually…stopped trying."

"Can we see her journal?" Tom asked, hopeful.

Koran nodded. "I will ask Aron if he has it, he's always been the only one she could fully trust."

There was a heavy pause before he continued.

"B'Elanna has…generally been well in her stay with us. She had some…difficulty with her temper in the beginning, but she has since learned to control her frustrations. She's been an outstanding member of our community, made a good impression to her family and their constituents…everything was fine. Then two months ago she became…withdrawn, distracted…somewhat reclusive."

"We thought the stress from the race was getting to her, but Aron seems to think that it's more than that."

"Like what?" Tom prompted.

"B'Elanna's always been a very good rider. She moved up the hoverbiking levels fairly quickly and has been competing in the intermediate level since she started. But she's never had major accidents…not until a few months ago. She's also generally responsible, but lately she's been sneaking out…She kept her ships location hidden from everyone. She only left clues for Aron to find her. We always knew that she would be safe, but she's never behaved like this before."

"Oh, she has." The doctor smirked, not bothering with the looks that Tom and the captain gave him.

"Aron told me that she's been having…dreams…nightmares for the past weeks. She won't tell us what it is, but considering how many people she takes into her confidence, we're just glad that she's not upset that we know."

"As a rule, families of noble birth are required to keep an extensive daily log of everyday activities, and B'Elanna is no exception. It's generally for historical purposes, things to store in our archive than for any official purpose. It is not accessible to anyone but B'Elanna and the Prime Minister, and he would never betray her confidence."

"So you think B'Elanna may have said something in her daily log?" Tom asked.

"I cannot be too sure. Most journals have a personal approach, but with B'Elanna having sole access to her logs-"

"You can't be too sure," Tom finished, resigned. "Great."

"I will try and convince Aron to have her grant him access, or have the minister grant me special permission to view them for medical reasons. But I prefer that Aron do it. He will not be happy, he will view it as an invasion. Hopefully he'll agree."

All the talk of Aron had led them to watch the two "siblings" through the plastic window.

The two of them were whispering, Aron seemingly comforting B'Elanna who was trying very hard to put up a brave face.

She wasn't succeeding. However, Aron seemed good at calming her somewhat. Had this been the old B'Elanna, she might have thrown a few tools by now.

"They are very close." Koran told them.

"The Prime Minister's wife and eldest son died in an ambush nearly a decade ago. The two of them were meeting the Prime Minister at a peace treaty. Aron was sick so he had to stay behind. He did, however, accompany them to the launching bay, where he saw their shuttle explode. He has felt the lost of his sibling everyday since then."

* * *

If there was one thing B'Elanna picked up from her diplomatic studies, it was the art of arguing without looking like you were arguing, something which Aron now regretted teaching.

"You're being unfair," Aron was telling her.

"Why not?" she argued. "Just understand my position."

Aron immediately played his trump card, "Father would never approve."

"They're _my_ memories."

"They're _your _people."

A sudden hurt flashed in her eyes, and B'Elanna immediately tried to contain it.

"So all of a sudden they're _my people…_" she whispered tersely.

His eyes narrowed as he answered back "No, you know what I mean. Stop trying to evade the issue."

He sighed. He couldn't understand why she was being so…difficult.

"These people have been searching for you for a long time, they deserve some answers B'Elanna."

"I can't give them any answers. I can't remember."

"That's not an excuse."

"You think this is an excuse!" her voice was trembling now, packed with anger. "I tried Aron, I wanted to, I did, but sometimes things are best left the way they are."

"B'Elanna…"

"They _left_ me!" she hissed.

"They thought you were dead!"

"Now _that_ is an excuse," she snapped back. "If you were missing and father thought that there would be any chance that you might be alive, he'd come after you. Even if it meant abdicating, he'd come after you. Even if it takes a year, two years…he would never have given up. I would have done the same thing for you Aron, now tell me you wouldn't have done it for me."

Aron didn't say anything. For once, he was speechless. He'd never seen his sister this agitated, this passionate about something. Oh she was expressive with her anger. In the beginning she even broke things. But lately she had mellowed down; and even though she still spoke her mind he'd never seen her with this much conviction.

And the truth was…she was right. He would never have given up on her. _Never._If there would have been but a sliver of a chance that she would still be out there, he would find her. And even if she wasn't his biological daughter, his father would have made the sacrifice for her.

They didn't leave anyone behind, not after what happened to his mother and brother.

* * *

"Malta has had a rather colorful past." Koran told them

"No kidding," Tom murmured.

The Maltan doctor had just given them a historical overview of Malta's world war, a small version of Armageddon not unlike Earth's Third World War.

But unlike on Earth, recovery hadn't been as easy. Maltan's were exceptionally talented arms makers, and they put those talents to use when developing weapons against each other. The devastation had nearly wiped out the whole planet.

It took years to undo the damage, both physical and social. Aron's mother and brother were the last victims of whatever animosity was left.

This year was the thirtieth anniversary of the war's end, and they were celebrating it by making a come-back on the regatta.

Despite its rather bloody past, the picture of modern day Malta that Koran had drawn made it to be an appealing place to live.

Certainly more appealing than a small, crammed starship that was forever running out of resources.

"So what happens now?" Tom asked.

No one seemed to know the answer to that question.

It was obvious that B'Elanna didn't want to come back. They didn't want to force her into anything, but with her current state it was too soon to make any permanent decisions.

A lot relied on the next few days, and even if the odds were against them, Tom couldn't really think of anything to do but to convince her that her place was here.

There simply wasn't any alternative.

* * *

"It's the proper thing to do."

B'Elanna sighed as she looked back at her brother's determined face.

From behind him, she could see Koran, the holographic doctor, and the ship's captain having a rather heated discussion.

The blonde man from the beach was just sitting there, clutching at the chair's armrest, and looking at the opposite wall, trying very hard to control himself.

"B'Elanna!"

She tore her eyes away from the young man and into Aron's questioning gaze.

"What?"

"Do you know that man?"

"What?" she asked again, irritated.

"I asked if you knew that man."

"I already told you, I don't know him. I've never seen him before other than today at the docks and at the beach."

Both their eyes widened at what she just said.

"The beach?" he asked "You saw him today? At the party?"

"No, he was…I think he was walking right outside the house," she stuttered.

"And where were you?"

"I was inside, with Jake."

"And you saw him?"

She was instantly on the defensive.

"I was bored, I was staring out the window looking for a distraction."

"And you happened to notice this distraction?" he replied, curious.

"He looked different. He was wearing funny clothes. And there aren't a lot of blue eyed men-especially those with short blonde hair-on Azarra, let alone Malta."

"But the beach is at least thirty yards from the house B'Elanna."

"So?"

"At that distance…how did you know that his eyes were blue?"

* * *

The captain sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

They'd been at this for hours, and she was exhausted. The doctor may be up to discussing this until the wee hours of the morning but she was ready to collapse.

And beside her she could see Tom's patience eroding to dangerous levels.

Even with his occasional smart mouthed comments, she had to admit that in light of this afternoons event's, he'd handled himself pretty well—heck, extremely well.

She knew—could tell by the way he held himself and the storm brewing in his troubled eyes-that he wanted nothing but to run to B'Elanna and crush her in his arms, memory loss or no.

Instead, they'd held him off until the last minute. Summoning him to sickbay only to keep him away for yet a few hours, with B'Elanna in plain view and in another man's arms, albeit a brothers arms.

Had she been in Tom's shoes, she might have flown to the door, screaming.

Yet here he was, practicing diplomacy, but most of all, respecting B'Elanna's position.

"Now that," she thought "is love."

"I cannot be too sure, but the Prime Minister may be tied for the rest of the evening with the Treaty." Koran told them.

"I know," she answered. "He sent me a message saying that he'll be here as soon as he's able. His son's early departure has already aroused suspicion, his leaving might just turn this into a full-blown inquiry, and no one wants to turn this into a scandal. People will find out soon enough, but we both agree that it's better if we have control of the situation as early as now."

A chirp filtered through the mumbled ascents in the room.

"Bridge to Janeway" Chakotay's voice sounded

"Go ahead, Commander."

"Someone here from the planet wants to talk to B'Elanna."

"I'm afraid they have to wait. She's rather indisposed right now."

He heard a frustrated sigh from Chakotay's end.

"I've told him that, but he's been calling every ten minutes since the last hour. He's very…persistent."

_Oh hell,_ she thought, rolling her eyes. "Who is he?"

"He says he's a family member."

In front of her, she heard the old doctor sigh. He shook his head. "I know who he is Captain. Your commander is right to contact you, he will not stop."

"Is this another brother?"

"No," he answered, sneaking Tom a rather wary gaze. "He's a relative and…close friend."

Janeway gave another frustrated sigh.

"Give me a minute Commander, then put him through."

* * *

B'Elanna took a tentative step inside the doctor's office, giving Tom a furtive look.

He kept his gaze trained to his boots, making her feel oddly disappointed. She took a deep breath as Aron placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, ushering her in.

"Someone wants to talk to you, Lieutenant," the Captain said when she called her.

The honorific made her flinch. "Just B'Elanna, please."

That gave Kathryn Janeway another big sign for a headache. She would have to remember that, maybe even brief the crew on how to handle the situation…if she could figure out how.

"Have a seat while we put him through."

She'd barely sat down when the screen in front of her flickered to life, and even though she had an idea on who was calling, seeing him still made her jump.

"B'Elanna!"

His voice boomed, and as the image settled, the people from Voyager were treated to a first look at this imposing figure.

Built like a linebacker with a shaven head—a sure sign that he was in Malta's defense force-the man on the communiqué looked on with a menacing glare, though his dark eyes softened somewhat when he saw B'Elanna. But that didn't remove the grim set on his prominent lips, nor the angered edge in his deep voice.

B'Elanna felt both anxiety and relief at seeing him.

"Jake!" she managed to cry out.

"B'Elanna! Where the hell are you?"


	13. Chapter 13

A.N. This is a bit short but forgive me. I am still trying to get my Trek legs back. After such a long time, feedback would be much appreciated. Now, on with the show!

* * *

B'Elanna flinched at Jake's hardened tone. 

The room had grown silent, pre-empted by Captain Janeway's surprised gasp and Tom and the Doctor's look of shock and utter disbelief.

If there was anything the three of them knew it was that no one, amnesia be damned, spoke to B'Elanna Torres that way. No one. Not unless they wanted to keep their tongue in mouth and not wear it as a belt.

A moment passed. They could hear B'Elanna's faint breathing as she tried to control her temper, even as Aron made a move to stand next to her.

But when he reached her side, she took a step closer to the screen and…sighed.

"I'm sorry" she said

Behind her, everyone suddenly seemed to explode into life.

"What!" Tom sputtered, his eyeballs nearly popping out of his head

Next to him, Captain Janeway and the Doctor looked equally shaken. This was something out of their wildest dreams, and that was saying _a lot._

"Aron and I are on the Voyager's ship" she explained, in a rather controlled tone "Father knows where we are, but I know I should have told you"

"Was that an actual apology?" the Doctor asked while the Captain looked on like a confused but proud mother

"Yes, Doctor I think it was" she deadpanned, turning her attention to the man on the screen

His look softened a little after B'Elanna's explanation but still didn't lose its guarded expression.

"Forgive me then" he said, before looking at the rest of them "My apologies especially to you, Captain. I was just worried when B'Elanna and my cousin disappeared off the planet."

"Apology accepted" Captain Janeway answered "Mr.--"

Aron, ever the diplomat, decided to do the introductions, thankful that the tension had eased somewhat in the room.

"Jacobian Von Ghetti" he interjected "Pardon me Captain, for not doing the introductions earlier"

"That's quite alright" the Captain answered, ignoring the snort from Tom, mumbling something about endless apologies

"Jake, as we have taken in calling him, is one of my father's aides. He also serves in our defense force as one of best fighter pilots and will be representing Malta in one of the races"

Jake bowed his head in greeting. "Welcome to Azara, Captain."

Janeway nodded in response, as Aron continued with the introductions.

"This is Captain Janeway, who represents Starfleet and the Federation of Planets here in the Delta Quadrant" he went on "Their Chief Medical Officer, Doctor…"

"Just the Doctor, please" the Doctor answered "I haven't quite chosen a name yet"

The Maltans' gave him a rather blank look, most probably wondering why someone of his age and stature still hadn't yet chosen a name.

"It's a long story" Tom explained "And please don't ask him to elaborate, we will never hear the end of it…"

Both the Doctor and the Captain gave him a hard stare. Even though he stopped himself from rolling his eyes, he knew that he would be in trouble later on. Not that he cared.

The day was proving to be more difficult for him as time wore on, and all Tom wanted to do was to bury himself on his bed and hope to hell that this was just a bad dream. Or a holodeck malfunction. Or just about any excuse.

Anything that didn't have B'Elanna not remembering him.

_But she's alive Tom, at least she's alive…_

His frustration made him glance at B'Elanna, who was studiously avoiding everyone's stare by looking at her surroundings with a patented glare.

Tom almost smiled. He knew that look. B'Elanna wore it every time she was uncomfortable. It was something familiar and it gave him hope.

"And this is Lt. Tom Paris" Aron said "Voyager's Chief Helmsman"

"Hello" he said, careful not to reveal the edge in his voice, even with Jake's suddenly critical look

"Yes, hello" Jake nodded in greeting, matching his glare "I've read about you, you're in the same race as I am. In fact, we're in the same heat."

Tom's eyes narrowed "That's good to know"

Jake was about to say something when Aron cleared his throat, reminding him of the nature his call.

"I will look forward to competing with you then" he said rather politely, before turning to look at B'Elanna

"I'm sorry to interrupt you in your meeting, but the Prime Minister wishes to speak with B'Elanna"

The mention of the Prime Minister seemed to perk her up, and B'Elanna's eyes lit up as she turned to look at the screen.

"Secure the channel" she said, giving Aron a slight nod, indicating that she wished to be alone "Then put him onscreen"

"Understood" Jake concurred, giving her a small, almost imperceptible smile before signing out

It almost went unnoticed, but Tom saw. And somehow Tom _knew_. And now Tom was worried.

"Aron…" he was about to ask when B'Elanna turned around and pinned everyone with a stare.

"Leave us" she ordered

And for once, the Captain, even the Doctor, complied. They marched through the door, Tom lingering for awhile before he felt Aron's hand on his arm, gently ushering him out.

He looked up and his eyes met with compassion.

"Now is not the time" Aron told him

"Yeah, but when is?" he said, trying hard to stop the angered scream that wanted to erupt from his throat

* * *

"That's insane!" B'Elanna seethed, her eyes burning 

She paced around the small room like a caged animal, trying to contain her anger against the calm and collected matriarch on the screen.

"No, it isn't" the Prime Minister explained "And if you calm down, you will realize that this is a perfectly good idea"

"It's ridiculous! You can't leave me in this…this ship of fools! I don't even know these people and yet they all pretend to know me!"

"That's because they do know you" he answered "And you won't be alone, Aron and Asher will be with you"

"What!" she cried "Do you even know what a huge security risk that is! Jake would never even go for it!"

"Too bad I happen to outrank him then" he cut in firmly "And yes, I do know what I'm talking about, and I still think this is good for you. For _all_ of you."

B'Elanna opened her mouth to argue but quickly changed her mind. Her father's expression showed that he wouldn't be swayed, no matter how hard or how _loudly_ she complained.

"What about the race" she asked dejectedly

"You will still be participating" he said reassuringly "You will still see your shuttle and harass your crew. You will still be performing all your official duties, but spend all your free time on Voyager."

"Alright" she said "Not that I've had any free time, anyway"

"You will" he answered quickly "The engineers tell me that the calibrations to the Argo have been going ahead of schedule, so I'm sure you'll be able to accommodate a few hours preparing a gala for our guests from the Alpha Quadrant"

She didn't say anything beyond a snort, but nodded anyway.

"Good" her father said, pausing for a while, his face graced with a reflective smile "Now call your brother; we have some things to discuss."

* * *

"What!" 

Kathryn Janeway stood her ground and tried hard not to flinch, even if Tom's voice and behavior had become increasingly shrill in each passing minute.

"Some bozo linebacker tries to put his claims on B'Elanna and I am supposed to just sit here and--"

"Captain Von Ghetti has made no indication"

"No indication!" he yelled "You all saw the look on his face, that was a pretty clear indication to _me_"

"Lieutenant!"

"And what are we doing! For the past five hours all we've done is stare at each other exchanging pleasantries, while these people can further brainwash her with--"

"Stand down Lieutenant Paris" she barked "And need I remind you that I am this close to putting you on report."

Tom, recognizing a major reprimand, calmed down somewhat, but did nothing to extinguish the fire in his glare.

"I believe them" she said, putting a hand up to keep him from speaking "And deep down, I know you do, too. Seeing B'Elanna like this is frustrating for all of us, but I'm sure you of all people are aware of how important it is to maintain protocol"

His shoulders slumped slightly, and she realized that this was the only apology that she was ever going to get.

She knew that he still harbored some sort of resentment towards her…towards all of them really, for not staying back longer to search for B'Elanna.

How things must have affected him, finally seeing her after so many agonizing months of trying to forget, only to find out that she had forgotten _him. _

She knew the painful questions of regret that must be going through his head: what if I'd searched longer, what if I'd tried harder, trusted my instincts for this given situation…what if, what if, what if. She asked the exact same questions herself, as were Chakotay and the rest of the senior staff, and she was sure the guilt weighed heavier on all of them.

Because at least Tom could sleep knowing that he had never lost his belief.

"We'll get her back Tom" she reassured him "You've met a lot of extreme situations before, and the two of you have always come through it"

"Not this one though" he admitted, hurting "Doesn't matter what happens, things will never be the same, and I can't say that they'll all be good"

He'd looked at her then, so lost and so small that her heart broke just looking at him.

And neither of them could stop from themselves from breaking down when she reached her hands out to hug him, not entirely sure if she was giving comfort or taking it herself.

"I'm not sure what's worse" he said, his voice breaking "Living with that empty feeling thinking that she's dead, or hating myself for resenting her in not being able to remember"

"Tom--"

"Because how could she forget" he cried "After all we've been through, all I've ever done…I tried _so hard_ for her."

"I know that, we all know that" she said "And deep down, I think she knows that too…even if she can't…remember"

They clung to each other then, like a man who had lost his lover and a woman who had lost a child, soothing each others pain.

Neither of them knew for how long they stayed that way until the doors opened and the Doctor stepped in.

"Doctor" Janeway asked, briefly wiping the corners of her eyes

"They've come out of my office, Thank God"

"Doc--"

"Might I remind all of you that sickbay isn't a briefing room?" he muttered "Three hours…I could have gathered a lot more data--"

"Doctor!" the two disgruntled officers cried in unison, making him wince in surprise

"Well they're done, and I believe Lieutenant Torres wants to see you Captain"

She blinked, surprised. "She does?"

"I do" a voice said from the doorway

They all looked up to see a tired but clearly infuriated B'Elanna standing by the entrance of the room, flanked by Asher and her brother.

"And please Doctor, just call me B'Elanna" she informed him bitingly, before turning back to the Captain "My father wishes to speak with you"

She nodded "Alright, Doctor, if you could reroute the communiqué here…if that's okay with you, Lieu—B'Elanna?"

"That would be fine"

The Doctor moved to reroute communication to the nearest panel, muttering once again about how this was his office, and not the ships conference.

A moment passed before the face of a regal old man appeared on the screen, his handsome face presenting that of a kind yet still intimidating monarch.

"Captain Janeway" he smiled in greeting

"Prime Minister, thank you for allowing us to dock in your orbit"

"That is no problem. In fact, we'd like to extend our hospitalities by inviting you to our world"

"That would be an honor" she answered warmly "If this wouldn't be an inconvenience…"

"Not at all" he reassured her "B'Elanna has been preparing so much for the race that we are well ahead of schedule, and there is nothing there that our engineers cannot handle"

"Then we would be glad to accept"

"Good" he said, pausing "Good…In the meantime, my children have planned a welcoming gala for you, and I'm sure B'Elanna could use your help in telling us more about your customs."

"Of course" she said, casting a rather surprised look at B'Elanna, who was sulking in the corner

"Good, then I'm sure, in order to facilitate this further, that you wouldn't mind if B'Elanna stayed with you?"

For a moment, she was quit taken aback, but quickly recovered as she tried to ignore the slight ruckus behind her.

"Why yes, Prime Minister" she answered tentatively at first, then firmly, happily "Yes, we would be happy to have B'Elanna on our ship"

"Excellent" he said, smiling at them, his eyes lingering for a moment on B'Elanna before continuing "We will send you the coordinates as well as an escort to Maltan space"

"Thank you" she replied, probably for more things than the obvious

"You are welcome, Captain Janeway" he answered sincerely


End file.
